Anticitizen 17 λ
by ileikturtles
Summary: The story of a civilian who gets recruited into the resistance. λ updates at least once a week! λ
1. Chapter 1 λ

2 **λ**

**This is a rewrite of the fic I released previously, but that's not a call to hit the back button! :O I believe that it's ****much**** more enjoyable to read now, I tried to add a little humour, and I've changed the POV to a more conventional one.**

** This is my first(-ish) fic, so reviews are **_**greatly**_** appreciated, and I'd love to hear suggestions/criticisms. Or any acknowledgement that you've read it at all c: **

_**Thank you, Please Enjoy!**_

_**Turtles ~ **_

**Chapter 1****λ**

Adrian #J-9142117 watches the forest dissolve into the suburban outskirts, as the train lurches towards City 17. Now the tip of the Citadel's visible over the tops of the colourful Eastern European buildings, or what's left of them. He glances nervously around the compartment, checking the other passengers' reactions. Furthest to his right, a couple sit close for protection. Nearer, another man with his suitcase lying across his knees. To Adrian's left, a woman with her face in her hands, sobbing gently.

Adrian fiddles with the straps on his suitcase, with the buttons on his standard blue shirt. A few minutes later, the train grinds to a halt. He takes a moment to calm his nerves, grabs his case and steps down from the train.

The first thing he sees is the giant screen, as if anyone could miss it. A smug Dr Breen welcomes everyone to City 17. As he showers praise upon the city and its Benefactors, Adrian travels around the front of the train, pausing to look around. To his right is a chain-link fence, behind it, a vortigaunt sweeping up trash under the watchful eye of a member of the Civil Protection. To the left, a luggage trolley and turnstile. Someone there is rummaging through the luggage trolley, and from the purposeful way another CP's striding towards him, Adrian's glad he decided to travel light.

"Were you the only ones on that train?" A woman asks as he passes through the turnstile. They hear a shout and turn back in time to see the luggage rack man pushed into the carefully stacked suitcases. But now more people are lining up to pass through the turnstile, the ones from your carriage and others from the same train. The new widow's voice fades out as Adrian turns into a wide, dim corridor lined with trash and a payphone, the cord cut. On the other end of the dark passage is a waiting area, with tables and benches.

As he enters, an old man dumps an empty Chinese takeaway carton and looks up at Adrian. "Don't drink the water!" He hisses, catching Adrian off guard. He only manages to mumble incoherently and back away, until he almost walks into another man who's pacing in front of the arrival and departure times' screens. This man's mumbling to himself, in Adrian's experience, never a good sign, so he moves away.

"Welcome to City 17." Breen repeats. "It's safer here."

Adrian grunts, making his way towards the passage between the fences set up in a winding queue. At the other end is yet another gate, leading to a small area sectioned off with more fences. It's heavily guarded, for such a tiny area, with four CPs. There's two people waiting before him; they step into the area and Adrian follows. The second turns a sharp left, and the first walks straight forward, through another gate and up a set of stairs. The gate is slammed closed as Adrian approaches; he hesitates, then turns left.

There's another gate, and yet another a few feet behind. The civilian walks through both gates without missing a beat, but as soon as he's passed, the gates slide closed and a CP on the other side of the chain-link fence positions itself in behind it. It's holding a pistol at waist height, instead of the usual stun-stick, and he watches Adrian warily. An alarm blares momentarily and Adrian looks up, there's a sign above the gate. It reads _Nova Prospekt_.

He takes a horrified step back. To his right, a door that he hadn't even noticed before swings open. A CP is standing in the doorway. "GET IN HERE." The hideous metallic voice crackles.

"Me?" Adrian asks, noticing a small plaque beside the door. It reads _SECURITY _in bold little letters. "Where are you taking me?"

"COME ON!" The CP barks, raising its stun-stick. Suitcase banging into his knee, Adrian reluctantly steps past the CP, and through the entry. On the other side of the security door is a long, narrow passage, the little more than the width of the doorframe. He notices another small door on the opposite side before the CP shuts the one behind them; the corridor is thrown into darkness. Adrian hears the grating of a door being unlocked and pushed open before the CP grabs a fistful of his standard blue shirt and pushes him through a doorway to the left. Then, it's locked again.

He glances around the room, realising that the Combine's definition of security differs a little from his own. Jutting out of the wall around the middle of the room is a long metal desk. Beyond the table is a console, a few filing cabinets and a couple of security cameras mounted on the wall. The half of the room he's standing in, however, gives him more cause for concern.

On the wall to his immediate left is a set of horizontal lines and measurements, the kind Pre-Combine police would have you stand in front of to take your picture for their records. And just in front of him is a red padded chair, reminiscent of the type in dentists' offices or hair-salons, except for the small matter of the manacles attached to the arm rests. Also, unless your barber happened to be very clumsy with those scissors, neither would you expect to see the whole thing drenched in blood. It had splattered the cushions and arm-rests, rolled down to the foot supports and pooled on the floor. The stains are dry, but not the kind of dry that says, 'Oh, _that_ old thing, we don't use it anymore'. It was the kind of dry that adds a cheery '-_that much_, anyway' on the end.

A loud metallic _clang _has Adrian whirling around to see a CP step into the room, once again locking the door behind itself. The CP wrestles the little case from Adrian's grip and flings it onto the desk. It _politely_ asks Adrian to sit down, and then _politely_ shoves him backwards when he hesitates. The not-a-barber-chair breaks his fall.

"This must be a mistake!" He declares. Over the CP's shoulder, he notices someone moving about through the little slit window in the door. "I got a standard relocation coupon just like everybody else!" The CP notices the movement also, and the last thing Adrian sees is a huge pair of wide-rimmed spectacles before the window is slid closed.

The CP then appears to lose interest in Adrian, and strides over to the console, where it begins to type something. It takes its time and Adrian begins to get fidgety. Escape is out of the question, of course, and his mind starts to wander over his future, and approximately how long it'll last. He realises that the CP is probably making him wait on purpose, some kind of mental pre-torture torture. He tries to think of the CP in its underwear, which used to be a kind of fix-all for uncomfortable situations in the time before. Unfortunately it doesn't work this time.

Adrian almost sighs in relief when the CP finally turns around, but it's short-lived; it reaches behind the desk and pulls out a large and rather rusted toolbox. It steps around the table, so that it has its back to him, and hefts the heavy case onto the desk. Then it makes a show of unlatching it and spreading the tools out onto the table-top, holding the occasional instrument up to the light for closer inspection.

The little glimpses are enough to set his mind racing. He thinks of teeth pulled out, or fingernails, and needles and blades. Of chemical burns and fire and broken bones-- He tries to snap out of the spiral; _It's just another show! More psychological torture! _He reminds himself, but the images are impossible to block out when his feet keep slipping off the bloody footrest. In any other situation, the pun might even have been amusing.

And finally, it turns around for good, casually twirling something resembling a stainless steel nutcracker from the time before; Adrian unconsciously rubs his finger-joints. "CITIZEN--" The CP begins.

**Comments ****λ**

_**Who is the mysterious Adrian? What is the CP planning? How w**__**ill our hero get out of this deadly dilemma? Find out next time-- Same lambda time, same lambda place! **_

**Comments λ Proper |D**

**Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter (or re-reading it, if that's ****the circumstance, thanks for the second chance ;D). I recognise that there wasn't much action in this chapter, shame on me, but it'll pick up in the next, I promise :I **

**PS. CPs speak in CAPS because I thought it looks more robotic/emotionless, and from now on they're all '**_**it**_**'s because there'd be too many '**_**he**_**'s in that scene otherwise :|**


	2. Chapter 2 Part 1 λ

2 **λ**

_**This chapter is split into part 1 and part 2, which is why they're pretty short.**_

_**Thanks for reading/double thanks for reviewing ;D**_

_**Turtles ~**_

**Chapter 2 ****Part 1****λ**

"CITIZEN--" The CP begins, but it's cut off by a sudden and deafening alarm courtesy of the console, accompanied by a red flashing light. The screens flicker momentarily, and lines of data start running across them, too small for Adrian to read from his seat. The CP slams the little steel device on the table, sending tools flying in every direction. It strides around the table and towards the console.

A cold female voice pours out of the speakers, and although Adrian can't understand them, he understands that some kind of crisis is developing. "YOU WAIT HERE." The CP snaps, unlocking the door and slipping out. A jangle of keys, and the lock scrapes back into place. The female voice appears to be on a loop, but he still cannot understand what she's saying.

He strains his ears, and can just about make out the sound of the Civil Protection in chaos, more felt than heard, over the alarm and robotic voice. He suddenly remembers a strange scene, some cartoon from the time before, people panicking and running in circles and smacking into walls; he used to find these things funny before the Combine stole his youth from him. These 'blasts from the past' are infrequent but when they hit, they hit hard, and leave a cold empty space inside you.

The grating sound of the door being unlocked again jars Adrian back to the present, and a CP is poking his head around the door, which is rather strange behaviour, he notes. The CP raises a finger to the jutting gas-mask filter over its mouth, _BE QUIET_, and beckons for Adrian to get up. He glances around the room and lifts himself out of the not-quite-barber-chair and stumbles uncertainly towards the officer, who steps back to let him pass. He suddenly remembers his suitcase, grabs it from the table and ducks through the doorway.

The door at the other end of the long corridor is cracked open now; Adrian can see a weak sliver of light on the floor beside it. He feels the CP place a hand on his back and is gently pushed towards it. "THAT DOOR LEADS TO THE BASEMENT." It says, something noticeably differs this voice from the other CPs he's been in contact with. "THERE'LL BE SOME PEOPLE THERE WHO CAN HELP 'YA. TELL 'EM THERE'S NO ONE ELSE COMIN'."

Adrian treads uncertainly towards the door, the corners of his luggage jabbing his thighs, pulls the door slowly open and peers down into the half-darkness. A set of concrete stairs lead downwards, the walls just as close as the corridor behind him. The passage is dimly illuminated by weak neon tubes, and he can just about make out a metal landing at the bottom of the stairs. Now, someone's banging on the _security_ door, and Adrian can hear CPs shouting. "_GET GOIN!_" The friendly CP hisses, and he sees it fumble with some keys and unlock a door adjacent to the one he spent the last half hour in. "_GO!_" It repeats. Adrian finally steps through the little basement door, which the CP closes and locks.

Adrian turns and hesitantly goes in the only available direction; down.

At the bottom of the steps is a metal landing, which turns out to be the beginning of a walkway jutting out perpendicularly along the wall. He looks over the railing and sees what appears to be a boiler room, although the weather's warmed up a bit and they're not in use right now. Piled up around the huge machines are hundreds of crates and boxes, apparently the room is currently being used as a temporary store-room.

He stows his case under his arm and inches his way across the catwalk, over-conscious that his footsteps are echoing around the room. When he reaches the other side, he finds another identical little door, and more stairs leading down at a right-angle from it. He rattles the handle. It doesn't open. He stamps his foot in irritation and tries again, although he freezes the moment he hears a gun being cocked below and to his right.

He turns slowly, struggling to hold on to his suitcase and raise his arms above his head. He sees a man half-kneeling on the steps, squinting at Adrian through the crosshairs of a sub-machine gun. Another woman jogs up the stairs, and a few more scramble over the tops of crates, also toting SMGs.

"How did you get in here?" The man —who has an impressive British accent— asks suspiciously, lowering the gun slightly so that he's looking at Adrian directly.

"Uhm-- I don't know-- I was in this room and-- and there was an alarm and the CP ran out and another one came and told me to get to the basement--"

"Barney." A woman standing behind the gunman said.

"Calm down sport." The Brit says. He must be the leader, because when he lowers his gun and stands up, everyone else does too. Adrian sees that the man and most of the others are wearing some kind of uniform; blue trousers tucked into combat boots, green or blue shirts with black armbands and short padded vests, and the straps from their backpacks across their chests. Three others, including the woman who spoke, are wearing the same outfit in light grey variations, with red armbands. The leader extends a hand for Adrian to shake, an outdated gesture. Adrian hurries down the stairs.

"Chester Cubbage, at your service." He says, and Adrian notices a **λ** symbol spray-painted in bright orange on the armband. It looks familiar, something he had learnt about in school, but after almost two decades, not much of high school remains. "We're part of the resistance."


	3. Chapter 2 Part 2 λ

2 **λ**

**The second half of chapter 2, enjoy 3**

**Chapter ****2 Part 2 ****λ**

"I'm Adrian." He says, shaking Chester's hand.

The woman steps forward. "Olga Bakst." She says, smiling kindly. She's much older than Chester, late forties at least. "We heard the alarm and decided to leave, in case any CPs came looking. You almost missed us; we were about to move out when we heard you trying to open the door."

The other people had since climbed down from the boxes. Now they were standing in a group near the stairs. There seems to be about ten people in all. "Speaking of CPs, we really should get moving before they turn up!" Someone from the group says.

"Wait a second, Blair. Did Barney say anything to you?" Chester turns back to Adrian.

"He said there's no one else coming." Adrian answers.

"Capital." Chester says. "Alright-- McQueen and Blair, Adrian's with you. Wilson, help Boyd. Give the newbie Boyd's gun, he's not fit to use it. Let's go, go, go!" He picks his way around the crates and the rest of the team follow. Two rebels positioned themselves on either side of Adrian. The one who spoke before, therefore Blair, nodded to him, and flicked the safety off his SMG. The other, a woman, takes the suitcase from Adrian's hand and traps it under her arm, offering him a pistol instead.

He takes it carefully, holding it at arm's length. "Never used one, huh?" She asks. He shakes his head. "Then just follow." She says, and the three join the rest of the group. In front of them is a medic with his arm around a rebel's shoulder, limping heavily.

They travel around the machinery and through a large door. A wide corridor is on the other side, with doors and tunnels leading off at regular intervals. Adrian follows as Chester leads the group through the maze, and eventually they come to a passage which ends with a narrow tunnel leading upwards.

"We go up in ten minutes!" Chester announces to the group. He turns to Adrian. "This leads to the street. When we get up there, we'll be in full view of every CP this side of City 17. And they may have set up sniper posts." He looks around; noticing that the leader's speech is for his benefit only, everyone else knows the drill already. "Sorry we have to take you across when it's so hectic, but then again you'd probably be dead by now if it wasn't. Say, you don't know what's going on, do you?" Adrian shakes his head, so Chester moves off to check on Boyd, the injured medic.

McQueen, Adrian doesn't know her name, taps him on the shoulder. "Time for a crash course." She says, taking the pistol from his hand. She shows him how to hold it, and how to reload. "I got these off'f Boyd," she adds, giving him a few spare clips which he stows in his right pocket.

Olga Bakst appears beside Adrian. "Here, take this. It's a medflask. Not as powerful as a proper medkit, but it'll take care of smaller wounds, heaven forbid, at least till we get to the base." She hands him a transparent flask, about the size of a soda can. The contents swirl from bright green to yellow, and he jams it in his left pocket.

"How come you didn't give err— Boyd some of this stuff?" He asks.

"We did, but his wounds are too serious. He wouldn't be walking at all if we hadn't, though. Anyway, good luck." Says Olga. "Stay close to Olivia; she'll take care of you." She smiles and moves towards the next few rebels, making sure they have a medflask or two each.

"Alright people, we're surfacing. Don't, I repeat, _do not _separate yourself from the group. The objective is to get back to the base." Chester nods to the group, sticks his SMG under his arm and starts climbing up the thick metal rungs. He's followed by Olga, two more rebels, Boyd, Wilson, another medic and Olivia McQueen. Then it's Adrian's turn, followed by Blair, and finally the other medic.

As Chester reaches the top, he gropes for the trapdoor's latch, and flicks it open. He pushes the panel open, and the tunnel is bathed in light. As Adrian climbs, the sound of City 17 in chaos gets louder. The group is in a rectangular alley; red brick walls on three sides, and a chain-link fence for the other. The ground is littered with trash, particularly around the dumpsters and peeling _DO NOT LITTER! _sign. Alarms ring and sirens shriek, but the sound of guns and little explosions can be heard over them. The floor begins to tremble and a new sound is added, a series of long, low thuds.

Someone shouts "_Strider!_" as a huge crab-like creature with three extremely long, thin legs comes into view in the street behind the fence. The Strider has some kind of cannon suspended from its belly, which the group gets a nice long look at before it starts to shoot.

"_Get under there!_" Chester's familiar voice bellows over the cacophony. In the centre of the opposite wall is a low arch, which Adrian finds himself dragged towards by the collar. A few steps lead downwards and the passage turns a corner. He hears a high-pitched whistle, and the entrance to the tunnel caves in behind them. The tunnel is thrown into complete darkness, which is pierced by a scream somewhere from behind.

"What happened?" Chester yells as he ignites a flare. He aims the flare towards the rubble. Lying sideways and half buried is one of the two unknown rebels. He claws at the debris, trying to pull himself out. "Kurtis! Wait a second, we'll get you out, don't worry!" Roars the leader, rushing forward. He places the flare on the ground and takes Kurtis' hands. "Take it easy, Kurt-- I _need some help here!_"

Olivia and the other soldier rush forward, and try to clear the biggest rocks off Kurtis' body. Olga dashes to Chester's side. A frowning Blair hangs back next to Adrian, who looks at the soldier questioningly. "That bit could fall down any moment." Blair says defensively.

"Okay, we're gonna pull you out mate, just hang on, we'll have you out in a minute--" Says Chester desperately. The other two grab handfuls of Kurtis' shirt. "McQueen? Ford? --Okay now!" The three pull, and Kurtis screams.

"Stop! _STOP! _His legs are trapped!" Now it's Olga shouting. She hunkers down, ripping the cap off a medflask. She places a hand under his head and tries to get him to drink, but he's groaning and wailing and the medicine dribbles out of his mouth.

A few loose rocks roll down the heap, one of the smaller ones hits the side of Blair's shoe. He jabs it with his foot. "Death-trap. It's a death-trap. Could come down any minute now." He mutters to the pebble and himself.

"Wait-- Can anyone hear that?!" Adrian shouts. Another high pitched whistle. "_Get away from the rubble!_" The rebels clustered around Kurtis spring back just as a deafening crash rocks the tunnel, and a few more feet of the ceiling fall in. After a couple of seconds of darkness, Chester lights another flare to replace the extinguished one. Olga is sprawled on the floor from where Chester pulled her back by her collar. She, Olivia and Ford are covered with a thin layer of dust and flecks of brick. They slowly get up and dust themselves down.

After a minute, Olga asks, "What now?"

"You know the drill," Chester says sullenly. "We have to keep going."

"But Kurtis--"

"Is dead, and so will the rest of us be if we hang around. Or worse. The striders aren't stupid, it didn't just _miss_. It blocked off the exit. It tried to get us hurt and confused so we'll sit here till the Overwatch arrive. Do you want to end up a _stalker_?" Chester says angrily. "Come on, we have to keep going. Is everyone ok to move? Ford? Olivia?"

"Fine, just a few cuts and bruises." Says Ford, taking a sip from his medflask. Olivia agrees and Chester gives the command to move out.

**Comments λ**

**I think that's enough for now ;D**

**I didn't really know what to call those mini 10HP medkits so I exercised a creative licence there :I**

**Poor Kurtis, he had such potential :**


	4. Chapter 3 λ

3 **λ**

**Thanks for sticking with it so far. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and the rest to come 3**

**Chapter ****3 ****λ**

Nobody talks much as they march through the tunnel. Adrian clutches the handle on his suitcase so tight his knuckles turn white. He finds himself in step with a medic, the one who hasn't said a word so far. He's walking with his eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

"So what were you guys doin' under the train-station?" Adrian whispers.

The medic looks up. "Well uh, Barney, our undercover guy, sneaks citizens down there, and we help smuggle them out of City 17."

"And… you always go this way?"

"I wouldn't know." He admits. "It's my first mission. Lucky me, huh?"

Chester leads them into an L-shaped basement of an apartment block. In the centre of the room is a wide lift shaft. Rusted lockers line the walls. In one corner is a stack of crates with _SUPPLY_ stamped all over them. Against the other wall rest two turrets. Everything is covered with a thin layer of dust. The group survives the trek across the room, so Adrian reasons that the turrets are inactive.

Olga reads the labels on the supply crates. "'_Weapons and ammunition_'. We could use these."

_Beep._

"What now?" Someone says aloud, probably Blair.

_Beep._

"It's coming from the door." It's Ford, this time.

_Beep. _

"It's the lock!" Olivia yells.

"Get away from the door!"Shouts Chester. The group scramble as far away from the door as possible. Adrian sees Chester push Olga behind the elevator shaft; Ford and the medic dodge behind lockers; Blair, Wilson and Boyd, who were still towards the back of the room duck behind the corner wall. He sees Olivia, and feels her foot connect with the back of his knee, then his forehead with the wall as he goes down.

_Beep. Beep. __BEEP!_

The lock flashes red and explodes; dust and wood splinters rain down. Adrian looks up, seeing stars. In front of him is a large aluminium cupboard housing the lift's mechanism. Combine soldiers group in the doorway, looking for rebels. Adrian can hear their chatter as they cautiously step into the basement. Crouching next to him is Olivia. He sees her unclip a grenade from her pack, and roll it towards the lift, where Chester grabs it. He pulls the pin out, reaches around the shaft's side and rolls it towards the door.

The Overwatch spots his arm and start shooting in his direction. A few of them notice the grenade, and jump out of the way, but the ones behind rush into the doorway obliviously. A bright light fills one side of the room. One of them is propelled over Adrian's head, and lands in the middle of the garage, where his suit flat-lines. Another only makes it as far as the cupboard.

The remaining soldiers recover quickly. Chester leans out from behind the shaft and starts shooting. Olivia, Ford, Wilson and even Olga join in. Adrian pops his head over the cupboard and tries to take aim at a soldier with his pistol. A bullet ricochets off the aluminium a few inches away from his face. He drops back down and decides to wait till the gunfight's over.

A few more flat-linings, and the room goes quiet, apart from the suits' chatter pronouncing their wearers deceased.

Miraculously, no one's seriously injured. Olga suggests they take a break, which the leader instantly shoots down.

"We have to keep moving." Chester announces, his voice strained. "No stops till we reach the base."

No one dares argue. They restock their ammunition and warily climb the stairs. Adrian, clutching his suitcase to his chest with one arm, gingerly prods his forehead with the other.

"Sorry about that." Olivia whispers, grinning sheepishly.

"For what?" Adrian mutters sarcastically. "For _throwing_ me face-first into the wall?"

"Sor-_ry_! I had to make sure you got out of sight!"

"Which I was just _about_ to do!"

"Well I already said sorry, what more d'you want--"

"As much as I'm just _dying_ to find out what happens next, why don't you guys keep it down?" This is Blair, poking his face in over their shoulders.

The rebels make it through the block relatively easily. They meet a few CPs along the way, but they're dealt with quickly. Apparently the bulk of the force is still too busy elsewhere, dealing with the crisis.

Adrian finds himself thoroughly exhausted by the time they reach the car park. His suitcase feels like it weighs several tons. His forehead is throbbing painfully. They descend through five levels, and eventually Chester stops walking. He reaches out and knocks on the wall, which makes a hollow _clang_ instead of the expected _thump_.

"Password?" Says someone, presumably behind door.

"Open the damn door." Chester growls.

A crack appears in the wall, and it swings open. Adrian's impressed at how well the rebels have managed to camouflage the door. "Oh, Mr Cubbage sir," the sentry says meekly. "I didn't know it was you…" His voice fades out as Chester stomps past, leaving him looking puzzled. Olga nods amicably as she steps through the door. Wilson helps Boyd through, and the rest follow.

Behind the door is a small space, fitting two chairs and a little table, which narrows into a long, thin corridor. Towards the end is a security camera trained on the entrance, and a blast-door. Adrian shudders, hoping it's never necessary. At the other end is a large room, with sofas and a couple of TVs. There's a few more rebels here, relaxing before their next mission. He hears them taking turns to mimic Breen's latest speech.

"Just one recruit today, Cubbage?" One asks jokingly as the leader trudges through, and wordlessly passes through an arch at the back of the room. A pause. "What's eatin' him?"

Nobody answers. The medics and Wilson help Boyd through the same arch. Blair sits down in front of a desk in the corner, and begins taking his gun apart for cleaning. Olivia flops down on one edge of the sofa.

"Do any of you guys know what's goin' on?" She asks. "The Combine's going crazy out there."

"No, we haven't heard anything."

"Something's got them jumpier than a room-full of head crabs." Ford adds, helping himself to a can of water.

Adrian stands awkwardly in another corner, fidgeting with the stitching on his suitcase, waiting to be acknowledged.

"So… what happened?"

Olivia and Ford share an uneasy glance. "There was a… we were on our way back and…" He says awkwardly.

"The roof caved in." Olivia offers.

"And… Kurtis got trapped, under the rubble."

"It wasn't Chester's fault, he couldn't have done anything. But he's blaming himself."

The room falls into a troubled silence. Adrian turns his attention to the latest Breencast. The ambassador is answering a letter, saying that human reproduction is a shameful and repulsive instinct.

Olivia snorts. "Who'd want to bring kids up now anyway?"

"What d'you mean?" One of the nameless rebels asks.

"Come on, chances are they'd end up orphans within six months."

"So you agree with the suppression field?" Ford asks.

"No but… what kind of life is this for a kid growing up?" She mutters angrily.

Ford stares at his water can. " _'Breen's private reserve'_." He reads off the label. "The only thing Breen's got privately reserved is a spot for my foot up his ass."

Silence descends again, the rebels staring blankly at patches on the walls or ground, thinking about their lives before, what they could remember of them.

Olga emerges from the arch. "Well it looks like Boyd will live to walk another day. Or hobble, anyway." She looks around the room, then focuses on Adrian, who's rubbing his forehead. "If you want, I can give you something for that."

"No, it's fine." He says, feeling slightly embarrassed to see everyone's attention turned towards him.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot about you," Olivia says, jumping off the sofa. "Guys, this is Adrian." They murmur greetings. "Uhm… I guess you'll need a room. The bunks are this way." She turns and goes through the arch. Adrian follows, and finding himself on a small landing, with a door on one side and a set of stairs spiralling downwards on the other. "That's the ward." She says, pointing to a red cross painted on the door. She goes down the stairs, Adrian follows.

From the base of the stairs leads a narrow corridor, lined with doors. Dim neon strips in the ceiling provide a little lighting. Olivia reads off the labels as she passes them, pausing at Kurtis' former room. "I guess we can clear this one out tomorrow." She mutters. She stops a few doors from the end of the passage, where four doors are marked _GUEST_. She pushes the door open and they step inside.

An optimist might describe the room as 'cosy', but these days they're few and far between. 'Microscopic' is what Adrian chooses. A set of rusty metal bunk-beds dominate most of the room, the space left filled with a small desk and a chair tucked underneath. Behind the door is a narrow green filing cabinet which had been adapted to serve as a set of drawers.

"Just like… home?" He says unenthusiastically.

**Comments ****λ**

**Is it just me or do green filing cabinets grow on trees in the Half Life universe?**


	5. Chapter 4 λ

**Chapter ****4 ****λ**

Olivia leaves Adrian to settle in. He sets his suitcase down on the desk, unlatches and opens it. Inside is his other blue shirt and trousers, folded neatly under his relocation coupon. He stares intently at the paper, then tears it up and dumps it on the desk. Then he takes the suit and puts it in the bottom filing-cabinet drawer. At the bottom of the suitcase is his allowance of soap and disposable razors for the month, plus a small canister of shaving cream. He puts these in the top drawer. Now his case is empty, almost. He lifts up the edge of a tiny tear in the lining, and slides out a little scrap of paper.

Adrian unfolds the paper. It's the corner of another relocation coupon, plain white paper with half of the Department of Relocation stamp along the uneven edge.

The door flies open, and Olivia's back. "Hey Adrian, I got you some stuff." She is indeed carrying a large box piled with clothes. "I got different sizes 'cause I didn't know which was best-- what's that?"

"It's a message from an old room-mate." He answers.

"Oh. Well anyway, see what's good from these, and then you're wanted in the ward." She dumps the clothes on the bottom bunk.

"Why?"

"Compulsory check-up. Don't worry, it's mostly questions, they won't make you do anything embarrassing."

"I wasn't but… thanks anyway?" He says doubtfully. She laughs and leaves the room.

Adrian gets up to sort through the clothes. He's tall but not exceptionally so, and a minimalist diet for almost two decades hadn't leave much extra around the waistline. He manages to fish a pair of combat pants and two light green shirts out of the box, and then a short padded vest. Towards the bottom of the box is older pre-Combine clothing, and he finds an ancient pair of jeans, some shorts and a white t-shirt.

Then he hefts the box and exits his new room.

Adrian reaches the top of the stairs and peeks into the living area. Olivia isn't there, so he places the box against the wall and knocks on the ward's door. Someone shouts to come in, so he steps trough the door.

The ward is a long room, with two rows of cots pushed against the longest walls. Some beds are occupied, wounded fighters sleeping or coughing or writhing in pain. At one end is a white screen cutting off a section of the room, probably the doctors' office. He makes his way down the narrow aisle, careful not to stare at the patients. He passes Boyd, sitting up reading a tattered book, his leg heavily bandaged under the sheet. The medic nods as Adrian walks by.

He raises his hand to knock, but since the wall is in fact a screen he casually scratches the back of his neck instead. A wrinkled hand dives out, and the curtain's pushed aside.

"Yes, yes, come inside." The doctor says. He's old, maybe late-fifties, wearing small frameless spectacles with mismatched legs. His face is wrinkled around a permanent-looking scowl.

Adrian makes his way inside. He sits on the examination bed, which, he's horrified to notice, doubles as an operation table. The doctor sits on his chair and swivels around to face him.

"And your name is?" The doctor says gruffly, picking up a clipboard.

"Adrian." He answers.

A pause. "Yes, and would you happen to have a surname to accompany that, by any chance?"

Adrian racks his brain to remember. "Cook." He says finally.

"Good to see you so sharp." The irritable geriatric practitioner grumbles. "Now, have you got any contagious diseases or symptoms at the moment?"

"Excuse me?"

"Any conditions? Asthma, Epilepsy, etcetera?"

"What? Err--"

"Heart disease? Breathing problems? Need of prescription medication?"

"Not that I know of--"

"What happened to your forehead?"

"Nothing, it's just a scrape--"

"When's the last time you brushed your teeth?"

Adrian blinks stupidly. "Uh-- _What_?"

"Good _god_ man, it's a simple question!" Says the doctor, opening a drawer in his desk. He pulls out a tube of unbranded toothpaste and chucks it at Adrian, who catches it, feeling slightly insulted.

A hand parts the curtain and this time a woman pokes her head in. "Dr Bakst--" She starts, then stops when she sees Adrian breathing into his cupped hand and sniffing. He in turn looks up when he hears the familiar name, and the ceiling suddenly becomes extremely interesting. The woman steps into the office and tries again. "Dr Bakst, I think you need to come check Murphy, he's coughing again."

"Oh, alright!" Dr Bakst sighs and slams his clipboard on the desk. He follows the medic out, walking with fast angry steps.

Adrian slips his toothpaste into his trousers' pocket, and twiddles his thumbs for a while. He can hear Bakst barking orders above the unpleasant sound of Murphy hacking. The curtain parts, and Adrian thinks it's Bakst come back to continue the check-up, but it's the medic again. She grabs some things from a few cupboards and a basin from near the sink, and dashes out again.

Almost half an hour passes before Bakst comes back. He sees Adrian's look of disgust, and looks down to see his white coat spattered with Murphy's blood. "Good grief man, get a hold of yourself." He gripes, shrugging the coat off and folding it over the back of his chair.

Dr Bakst listens to Adrian's chest with a cold stethoscope ("Christ man, stop squirming!"), and examines his eyes and ears ("And while you're brushing those teeth, your ears need a good cleaning out.") He's just about tired of being lectured about personal hygiene when Dr Bakst tells him to go.

"That's it?"

"Well yes, unless you want an endoscopy as well."

Adrian hops off the table and makes his break for freedom.

Olivia meets him outside the ward. "How was it?" She asks, smirking.

"He was very-- Why are you smiling like that? You knew, didn't you?"

"Don't worry about it, he's always like that. What did he tell you?"

"Uh, nothing really, it wasn't that bad--" He jams his hands in his pockets, but too late.

"Oh my God, he gave you _toothpaste_?"

"I'm glad you find this so amusing." Adrian sniffs. "Don't you have any work to do?"

"Oooh touchy, but as a matter of fact I've got the rest of the day off. I thought it'd be a good time to start your training."

"What training?" He asks suspiciously.

"Hey mister, you're in the rebellion now, you've got to be able to protect yourself."

"Don't _I_ get the rest of the day off? On account of almost dying? Multiple times?"

"Actually, that sounds like a great tactic!" She clears her throat. " 'Hey Overwatch, don't be shooting at me, I'm _tired_!' " She switches back to her normal voice. "Come on, I'll set some targets up in the parking lot."

They pass through the living area. Olivia pauses next to Blair's desk where the weapons are kept ready, in case of an emergency. She picks up a couple of pistols and SMGs, some spare clips and a strange looking contraption which glows.

"What's _with_ that guy?" Adrian asks, looking over his shoulder at Blair, his eyes darting suspiciously around the room.

"Who Blair? Yeah, he's a weirdo." She answers. "But he's the best marksman here, when his life depends on it, at least."

They pass under the blast door, past the sentry and into the car park. Olivia piles the guns on a wooden crate. She opens a green locker, and brings out a yellow plastic crate filled with empty blue water cans. She begins setting them up like card houses on the ground, and on crates and barrels at different distances.

"Okay, let's start with the pistol." She says, handing it to him. He hits the first few cans, which are relatively close, but struggles when they get further away. "Don't worry, you just need practise. You're actually doing really well." She says.

"Really?" He beams.

"Well, no. But you'll get there." She grins. "You wanna try this one?" She hands him an SMG instead. "It's got a longer range. And the cross-hairs, which help."

Adrian sulks and takes the gun. He does better with the SMG.

"Now, it'll be harder when they're moving around, obviously." She says, crushing his lifting spirits. "What about this?" She passes him the strange-looking gun.

"What is it?" He asks, examining the odd shape.

"It's a Pulse Rifle." She answers. "The Elite forces and some Overwatch soldiers use them."

"Uh-huh…" Adrian mumbles absently, twirling the weapon in his hands and looking at it from every angle. "Whoops, hey--" He mutters, as the rifle is jolted back in his arms. A pulse explodes forward, bounces off a wall and flies into the dark distance of the car park. Olivia snatches the gun back.

"We'll try this again tomorrow." She grumbles. "Alright, let's pick the cans up-- _duck!_"

"Where?" Adrian replies wittily. She grabs a handful of his collar and pulls him behind a crate.

"You _idiot_." She says, as the pulse flies past and knocks a barrel over. It bounces off a wall and fizzles out.

**Comments ****λ**

**Sorry it's been so long, but I came home from school late everyday last week :/ And also I won't be uploading a chapter till I'm done with the next one, for reasons of I like to go back and make sure there's nothing conflicting. **

**Thanks for following my story, I love you! 3**


	6. Chapter 5 λ

3 **λ**

**Chapter ****5 ****λ**

That night Adrian sleeps like a baby in his new bed, out of exhaustion and shock. At around ten am he wakes up, his life as Citizen J-9142117 already seems like so long ago, when in fact it has only been less than twenty-four hours. He rolls off the bottom bunk and pauses, deciding whether to wear his blue citizen shirt and pants or the resistance suit. He chooses to wear the blue set; somehow he doesn't feel right wearing the rebels' outfit, not when he can barely shoot a tin can off a crate five meters away. He says that when Olivia asks him, up in the common room. They spend the day working on his aim in the parking lot, and she even lets him try out the Pulse Rifle, after she unloads the alternative pulses.

It's around six pm. Adrian is sitting in the common room with the other fighters, eating dinner on the sofa, enjoying his hot canned soup after two decades of the unidentifiable freeze-dried junk that the Combine fed them. He watches the others play a darts tournament. They were playing fighters versus medics and Blair, who insisted on being in a team on his own. Adrian had started out with the fighters, but had gotten himself eliminated early on in the game. Two medics remained against three fighters and Blair. Chester still hadn't resurfaced.

The room is full of shouting and laughter. Adrian can't help but join in the cheering and booing.

A door which he knows leads to the communications room swings open, and a woman runs in. She's wearing a pair of large cordless headphones, duct-taped at the middle, around her neck, and her cheeks are bright red with excitement. There's something vaguely familiar about her, he realises, but can't think what.

"We just got a message from Barney," She says excitedly. Her voice is startlingly familiar to him. "It's the _Free Man_-- He's returned! He's on his way to Black Mesa East!"

The room is silent for a moment, as everyone shares astonished looks, then the shouting and cheering starts again, louder than before. Adrian waits for the chaos to subside before edging towards Olivia.

"Hey, stupid question; don't wanna seem dumb but uh, who _is_ the 'free man', exactly?" He whispers.

"Ha-ha well, this guy, Gordon Freeman, he cleared up the whole Black Mesa incident, twenty years ago."

"Oh, oh Black Mesa, yeah. Yeah. Mhm, sure. Black Mesa."

She punches his shoulder playfully. "Well, moron, basically, if there's anyone who can lead us to overthrow the Combine, it's him."

"So where's this superman been hiding for the past twenty years?" Adrian asks sourly.

Before she can answer someone a few feet to his left calls, "_Adrian_?"

"Huh? Eh?" He looks around, and spots the woman he almost remembers. "I know you from somewhere, don't I?"

"Yeah, she just called your name, dimwit." Olivia points out.

The woman laughs, embracing him as he stares blankly back at Olivia over her shoulder. He racks his brain for a moment, until it suddenly clicks.

"Oh my god, Lucie!" He says, hugging her back. "Jesus, wow! I never thought I'd run into _you_ again!"

"Am I missing something?" Olivia says, her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

"Well, a while back I got relocated to City 14, and she was my flatmate. Jesus, that was something like… five years ago?"

"Seven." Lucie says. "And you still look exactly the same."

"You _don't_!" He says defensively. "You look great, freedom suits you."

"What are you saying?" She says, mock-insultedly. "What happened to your head?"

"I had a run-in with a wall." He grumbles, shooting a glare at Olivia.

She laughs. "When did you get here? Wait-- what happened to--?"

"He got relocated, just like everybody else." Adrian cuts in. "I don't know where he is now." He adds slowly.

"Oh. Well. Anyway, we found each other, who knows, right? Uhm-- I have work to catch up on, I'll see you around…" She says quickly, and shuffles back towards the radio room.

Adrian turns back to Olivia, grinning like an idiot.

"You're grinning like an idiot." She remarks. "Who's that guy you were talking about?"

"A couple of weeks after I got there, he got assigned to our apartment. Eisenheim, we called him -- I think his name was David… _she had a thing for him_." He adds, whispering conspiratorially, on one side of his hand.

Around them, the resistance members are ecstatic with the news of Gordon Freeman's return. Olivia's about to ask about the nickname when they start calling up the players to finish their tournament. She shrugs and takes up her place next to Ford.

"Hello, Adrian." Says Olga from behind him. He turns. "Great news, huh?" He notices that she's carrying a little tin tray. On it is a shallow bowl with a plate overturned on top of it and a small thermos.

"Yep." He says. "Super."

She smiles at his unconvinced answer. "Is your forehead giving you any trouble? I can still take a look at it if you want--"

"No, it's alright, it isn't hurting anymore." He says. Her fussing brings him a pang of sorrow at the realisation that he hasn't seen his parents in almost fifteen years.

"Well okay. I have a little favour to ask of you. Someone needs to take this down to Chester; he hasn't shown his face since you all got here yesterday." She says, looking worried.

He accepts the tray which is warm from the food and her hands. "His room is--"

"The first one at the bottom of the stairs, yes. Thank you. And make sure he eats it, we don't need a leader who's too weak to stand up." She returns to the ward.

Adrian descends carefully and knocks on Chester's door. There's no answer. He wonders whether to leave the tray beside the door, but realises that it would be trampled in the cramped passage, so he knocks again, more forcefully. He waits for a moment, then turns to leave. He's about to step onto the stairs when he hears Chester shout "What d'you want?"

Adrian pushes the door open and looks inside. The leader's room is almost identical to his, except that the top bunk, desktop and every other available surface are covered in papers and maps. Chester himself is lying with his hands folded under his head, staring at the underside of the top bunk. He's fully dressed in the resistance uniform, with his worn boots resting on the metal bar that forms the footboard, ankles crossed.

"_Well?_" Chester snaps, moving his feet to the side so he can see the doorway, with Adrian standing under it. He spots the tray and turns his eyes back to the metal underside of the top bunk. "Leave it on the table." Adrian clears a space as best he can and sets the tray down on the desk. He stands awkwardly beside it.

"What now?" Chester grumbles, facing Adrian again.

"I er-- Olga told me to make sure you eat it." He mumbles.

Chester rolls his eyes and slowly gets up. He grabs the back of the chair, pushes a stack of papers off the seat and drags it to the desk. He sits down heavily and removes the overturned plate. Underneath is a steaming bowl of vegetable soup, which the rebels had stolen from an unguarded Combine truck. Adrian, who always feels uncomfortable watching people eat, looks around the walls, and inspects a large grey and white map of the coast. Various points along the coastline are circled. Most are numbered and have the same **λ** sign he saw on the armbands. "Boyd doing okay?" The leader asks, waiting for the soup to cool down.

"He's still in the ward but they said he'll be okay." Adrian answers. "What happened? Did you get spotted by CPs?"

Chester shrugs. "It was a man-hack. The tunnel we usually take was locked, so we took another path. There was a stack of crates and I suppose that the hack was in standby-mode or something, but when Boyd moved the crate the damn thing flew at him."

"Oh…" Adrian mutters. A shiver rolls down his spine. He knows what man-hacks can do. He had once watched through his apartment window as CPs in the square set a few loose on unruly citizens. He examines the map while Chester starts to eat. To Adrian's relief the leader doesn't slurp his soup. Adrian waits till he's done, then asks; "Where's Black Mesa East?"

Chester looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, then lifts himself slowly off the chair and jabs one of the scribbles with his finger. "There, the old hydro-plant. Of course, that map's a little out of date. Well, twenty years out of date. But I have more recent ones if you need them." He says, shuffling through the rolls on his desk. "Why?" He asks, looking up at Adrian.

Adrian shrugs. "No reason, that's just where they said he was going."

"Where _who_'s going?" Chester asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, uhm, Gordon Freeman. We got a message from Barney about an hour ago."

A look of incredulity crosses Chester's face. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again and dodges around Adrian and out of the little room instead. Adrian stacks the plates on the tray, leaves the untouched thermos on the desk and follows.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, Chester's already disappeared. He picks his way across the common room, dodging around celebrating rebels. Through the chaos, someone puts a hand on his shoulder, and steers him to the kitchenette, which isn't much more than a glorified niche. He sets the tray down on the limited countertop and turns around to see Olivia.

"The medics won." She says, managing to look annoyed while still looking cheerful. "If Pasternak was here he'd have us fighters running laps around City 17." She laughs.

"Pastor-_who_?" Adrian asks, getting tired of being out of the loop all the time. He picks the tray up again, and places the dishes in the sink.

She stares at him for a moment, then sighs. "You poor pathetic creature. Mikhail Pasternak, he was sort of like our coach, kinda like a high-school gym teacher." She lifts herself onto the counter and sits on it.

"Hence the laps." Adrian says, rinsing the bowl. "What happened to him?"

"Nothing _happened _to him, the guy's a panzer. He just moved to another base."

He leaves the clean dishes on the side of the sink and grabs a rag to dry his hands. Suddenly, something hits him in the back of the head, jerking him forward. He barely hears Olivia's shocked _"Are you okay?"_ as his vision darkens and he passes out.

**Comments ****λ**

**Folks, I just remembered to say that this Adrian has nothing to do with Adrian Shepherd****. Sorry about that ;D **


	7. Chapter 6 λ

Adrian stifles a yawn with one hand, and uses the other to shift his geography textbook on his lap so that the corner of the sci-fi novel he's secretly reading doesn't slip out. The lecturer turns to write on the board, so he hazards a glance out of the window. All the birds suddenly take flight at once from the tree on the edge of the football field. He assumes that it's something to do with rowdy students, until the campus begins to tremble.

The earthquake rocks the classroom, and its magnitude causes a mass power-cut across the country. The students wait in thrilled silence until the school's backup generator comes online. The lecturer adjusts his toupee and tries to connect the tremor to the day's lesson on the Water Table, in an unsuccessful attempt to recapture their attention. The class is still buzzing when the Principal calls an assembly, and more so when he says that students are to remain inside the main building until the government has deemed it safe to leave. _Why_, someone asks. The principal's unbelievable answer; _because the earth is under attack._

**Chapter ****6 ****λ**

"Adrian…?"

Adrian sees dull blurred colours. His eyes focus slowly, first his own blue-trousered knees, then the kitchen cupboards beyond. He realises that he's now sitting against the grimy kitchen wall, presumably moved there by Olivia. He turns his head, a little too fast, and white dots flicker in front of his eyes, accompanied by a jolt of pain in the back of his head.

"Welcome back." She says, her concerned frown dissolving back into her usual grin. She offers a hand to help him up.

"What the hell was that?" He grumbles, rubbing the back of his head. Someone moves in the doorway, coughing to get his attention.

"That could be my fault." It's Blair, he sees. "Sorry." He adds as an afterthought, not sounding sorry at all.

"He was testing out a slingshot." Olivia says, glaring at the soldier over Adrian's shoulder.

"On _me_? Why on _me_?"

"Who else should I aim at? Myself?" Blair replies.

"What I think he's trying to say, is that it was an accident and he's sorry. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, total accident." Blair says and leaves.

Adrian stares at his retreating back. "A slingshot".

"Yeah, for grenades, he says. Looks like it's pretty powerful, huh?"

"You're hilarious, you are." He retorts, taking off towards the common room.

"Oh come on, don't be so dramatic." She says following him.

Adrian plonks himself down on the sofa with his arms crossed tightly.

The door to the radio room swings open, and Chester strides out. Trailing behind him is Lucie the radio operator, picking at the silvery tape holding her headset together.

"Well, keep trying. I want to know what's going on at the coast." Chester orders.

"Yes sir!" She answers, and returning through the door.

Chester ignores everyone in the room and proceeds into the ward. Olivia waits till he's out of sight before springing off the couch and after Lucie. Adrian keenly tags along. The Communications Department consists of one cramped room. Two walls are lined with a bank of patched-together desks. On top of the desks and piled on brackets on the walls are monitors, each a different size and model, and displaying different areas of City 17. The spaces between the monitors are filled with little radios and communications equipment. In the corner behind the door a little printer spits out continuous strings of data, straight into a little bin placed directly under it. The deafening hum of heaps of old electronics hits Adrian like a wall.

Two empty chairs are tucked under the desks, the other occupied by Lucie. She's pulling the pedestal of a large, old-fashioned microphone towards her. "--N.L.O, Station Negative Four* to N.L.O, come in New Little Odessa." She echoes into the microphone.

"Lucie?" Olivia says.

Lucie spins around on her chair, which Adrian notices is a normal chair with a set of mismatched wheels fixed on. She turns the volume down on the radio. "Hey Olivia, Adrian. What can I do for you?"

"Oh nothing," Olivia says, sitting on one of the free chairs. "We were wondering what was going on, is all."

"Chester wants to contact the Railroad. He wants to know what's happening with Freeman." Lucie says, rubbing her eyes exhaustedly.

"You look overworked." Adrian says sympathetically. "You work in here alone?"

"Yes, well, Derek's in the ward, _again_. I swear he spends more time in there than he does actually working." Lucie complains. Olivia pats her shoulder sympathetically.

They fall into silence, which is ended by a short burst from the radio.

"Station Negative Four come in. This is New Little Odessa."

Lucie grabs the microphone and turns up the volume on the speaker. "This is Negative Four. What happened?"

"Toilet-break, sorry about that, we're a bit understaffed here." Says the voice, chuckling. He then clears his throat and continues, his voice all business. "Negative Four, what is your message?"

"Give me that--" A voice cuts in on the other side. "This is Colonel Odessa Cubbage of New Little Odessa base."

Adrian recognises the accent before the surname. He leans forward and whispers to Olivia, "Chester's dad?"

"Uncle." She whispers back.

Meanwhile, Colonel Cubbage tells Lucie that Gordon Freeman has arrived safely at Black Mesa East**. Olivia gets up and beckons for Adrian to follow. They leave Lucie and the Colonel sharing information on Freeman, and step out of the room. The sudden silence almost causes Adrian to loose balance.

A few hours later, Chester announces to everyone in the base that he'll be leading a team of rebels to the coast to meet with Freeman at New Little Odessa.

**Comments λ **

**Sorry for the late update folks, but I haven't been able to post this in three days.  
Once again, thank you for reading my humble story c:**

***The base name really isn't important, but I called it -4 because its not on the coast/canal side of the railroad, and is closer to the city centre.**

****In the game the Combine attack BM-East shortly after Gordon arrives, but for the story's sake I'll be stretching out the HL timeline a little, so he'll have a few days' break before the Ravenholm bit.**


	8. Chapter 7 λ

3**/3**** λ**

**Chapter ****7 ****λ**

Adrian spends the next two days training; working on his aim and running laps around the cavernous car-park.

Olivia finds him a slightly bruised pair of combat boots, an armband, a little backpack.

"All packed?" She asks, sitting on the edge of the desk in his room.

"Yeah but… I don't know if I'm up to this…" He says, sitting on the edge of his bed, head bowed to avoid collision with the bars of the top bunk. "I mean-- let's face it, my aim sucks. I couldn't hit the broad side of a barn."

"Then I guess it's a good thing that we're not at war with a barn then, huh? Look, we'll give you an SMG; then you won't need to aim." She says cheerfully, swinging her legs.

"Gee, thanks." He sulks.

"Don't worry about it, you'll be fine. Get a good night's sleep, you'll need it." She slides off the desk and heads for the door. "Don't forget to pack your toothpaste." She adds, smirking, and shuts the door behind her.

Adrian lifts his feet onto the bed and stretches out. He tries to drift off to sleep but his mind won't let go. He thinks of being caught by the combine and gunned down, or worse, being shipped to Nova Prospekt to be turned into a stalker. Even worse than that is the thought of letting the team down. Olivia isn't scared, in fact she's acting like it's one big adventure. He tries to build up faith in himself, and eventually drifts off into a fitful sleep.

A few hours later he's fully awake. His stomach growls but it's too early to get up. He glances around the room restlessly, willing time to pass faster, until someone knocks on the door. He calls to whoever it is, and Olga pokes her head around the door.

"It's time." She says softly, and then leaves again. Adrian lifts himself off the low bunk and changes out of the blue overalls and into the rebels' uniform. The combat boots squeak a little. The outfit feels out of place on him. He grabs the strap of his backpack and makes his way out of the tiny room.

The plan is to drop Adrian and new recruits from other bases off on the Railroad, which is a series of resistance bases along the coast leading up to Lighthouse Point, where they can receive proper training. Then the teams are to meet up with Gordon Freeman and Eli Vance, the de facto leaders of the whole struggle against the Combine, to see what the next step will be.

In the common room the others who signed up for the team are getting themselves ready. Chester is giving Lucie instructions, who in turn is nodding and keeping up a constant stream of "Yes, sir!"s. Olivia and Ford are standing in a group with three other soldiers, talking animatedly and laughing. Blair is glowering, irritatedly taking his gun apart and checking that every part was in order; Chester had ordered him to join the team because of his sharpshooting skill. Olga fusses over everybody, making sure they're ready and checking the use-by dates on their medflasks.

Olivia notices Adrian and beckons him to the group. He notices that Ford isn't suited up. So he's not coming then. As he approaches, he hears the soldier say that he's envious. Olivia laughs and answers that he should be happy enough being the second in command while they're gone.

Chester bangs his fist on the table, and the room falls into silence. "Last good-byes, we're moving out." He states, turning and passing under the blast door. The medics hug, the fighters and Olivia punch their fists together. Dr Bakst —who had been standing quietly in the arch next to the stairs— steps forward, he and Olga embrace tightly.

A tap on Adrian's shoulder; Lucie is standing behind him. They hug too. "Be careful out there, Adrian." She says. "Now go and make us proud." They hug briefly again, and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the little scrap of paper he had hidden in the lining of his suitcase, and places it on her palm and wraps her fist up around it tightly.

"I'll keep a look out for him." Adrian promises, and then Chester's calling the team to move out. They pass the sentry, who salutes them, and march through the empty car park. Adrian does a head-count; Chester, Olga, Olivia, himself, Blair. A small group because they intend to meet up with teams from three other stations.

They want to join up with first group inside a disused theatre four blocks away, the second in an abandoned mall, and the third in an old chapel closer to the outskirts of the city. The Combine had cracked-down on the inner city part of the Railroad as Freeman passed through, destroying all of the canal stations so that only the ones unconnected to the waterways are left.

They ascend through the car park, take the back exit and arrive in a dingy alleyway. After two weeks of unusually warm weather, the air is cold and sharp again. On the opposite side is a boarded-up door into another block of buildings, and on the left is wall about one storey high. Adrian remembers creeping through the alley towards the car-park door from the right, but instead, Chester vaults up onto a skip pushed against the left wall. He reaches down and Olivia passes him a large cardboard box which was lying innocently to one side. Chester stands the box on it's longest side and pushes it into the corner. Olivia climbs onto the dumpster. She places her hands on the edge of the wall, and lifts herself onto it. She checks left and right, and tells Chester that it's safe.

"Alright, Olga, you're next." Chester says, offering a hand to help the older woman climb onto the skip. She places a foot on the box, and with Olivia's help climbs onto the wall, which turns out to be a roof. "Cook, your turn." Says the leader, so Adrian climbs onto the roof, deciding that the cardboard box must be filled with something for strength. He's followed by Blair, and then by Chester himself.

The roof goes about ten feet left and right, and then is surrounded by buildings on all sides. Chester brings the box, and this time places it under a window which had previously been smashed in. They climb into the room, landing on a thin mattress placed under the window; obviously the rebels use this route often.

They cross the block, going up or down a floor every so often, without encountering any CPs. They sprint across an alley into the next apartment block, then again into the third. The theatre is visible through the windows, across the road from the third block. It's a large rectangular building standing alone like an island with roads all the way around. Adrian follows the team as they descend the stairs to the basement.

The cellar is large but the floor is completely covered with boxes, trash and other debris. Chester picks a spot (by standing against the wall and under his breath counting his steps forward and to the right) and begins clearing the clutter away, eventually revealing a steel trapdoor, camouflaged, and blending perfectly with what little shows of the floor. He slips his fingers into an invisible handhold, and pulls the panel open. A few flares are jammed into a little niche roughly dug into the side of the floor, he lights one and drops it down through the trapdoor.

Olivia swiftly lowers herself down into the secret room, landing on another well-placed mattress. Olga follows, then Adrian, Blair, and finally Chester, pulling the panel closed behind him. The red blaze of the flare illuminates a small room with a low ceiling and one door, and a large orange **λ** spray-painted and circled on the wall. Chester promptly begins wrestling with the door lock, which is circular with protruding spokes, like the hatches on ships. He manages to get the mechanism turning, and pushes the door open. Beyond is narrow tunnel, with rough uneven walls. This time Olivia stays last, to close the door behind them.

"What is all this?" Adrian whispers when they start marching again.

"They're underground passages built by the resistance to make it easier to get around without the Combine finding out." She answers.

At the end of the tunnel is another hatch. Chester opens it, and the group find themselves buried beneath racks of costumes. They dig themselves out of the costumes and emerge in the maze of the theatre's backstage. Chester cautiously leads them onto the stage.

"Identify yourself!" Someone shouts, a deep voice that echoes off every surface. Everyone is silent, then the auditorium fills up with his laughter. "It took you long enough." He adds, stepping out from the shadows in a balcony high above the stage. "Wait down there, we will be with you shortly." A soldier who had been crouching in the shadows stands up and starts taking apart a sniping rifle which had been set up on the edge of the balcony wall.

There's a scuffle of hurried footsteps and three rebels emerge from the doorway marked _EXIT_. The first is a giant of a man, easily seven feet tall, with thick curly hair and a naturally reddish face that could be anything between thirty and fifty years old. Two others, medic and fighter, follow, dwarfed by the enormous man.

"Chester Cubbage!" Mikhail Pasternak booms, putting his hands on Chester's comparatively small shoulders. "I spoke to your uncle, he is very excited to see you again!"

"See?" Olivia hisses, nudging Adrian. "What did I tell you? _Panzer_."

"I see you were ready for a Combine invasion." Chester says, nodding his head at the sniper rifle the soldier has strapped to his back.

"These two insisted." Mikhail answers, slapping fighter's shoulder. "And the lovely Olga Bakst!" He continues, turning to the chief medic and kissing her hand. "How is Hubert?" Olga says that he's fine, and Olivia waggles her eyebrows at Adrian. "But now we must leave, two other groups wait for us."

The medic and soldier introduce themselves as Sylvia and Walt, but they don't say much else.

They take a different tunnel, this one leading out from the back of a broom closet. Mikhail --who everyone had automatically assumed to be the leader-- walks in front, partially turned to one side, and with his head bowed, because the tunnel is so narrow. Eventually, they stop at a door. Beyond, a tiny square junction room in which two (regular-sized) people barely fit standing shoulder to shoulder, with a hatch on each wall. Mikhail opens the one directly opposite to where they enter from, and then there's another, longer tunnel, through which Chester leads them. At the end, he stops again, grappling with the circular lock. The flare flickers out and he breaks open another one. Eventually he gives up and turns around.

"It's locked." He says.

"But we said we'd be passing from here." Olga says. "I was with Lucie when she radioed in to tell them. Are you sure it isn't just rusted closed?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Chester snaps irritably. "It's turns ten degrees then stops."

"What now?" Blair says. "We can't stand around here! _What now_?"

"Calm down Steven." Mikhail says, evidently to Blair. "We will go back and take another tunnel, this is not a problem."

Chester passes the flare back along the single-file of rebels. They turn and double back to the tiny junction room, and take the left door instead. At the end of the passage is yet another hatch, this one unlocked.

They emerge behind a rusted fridge, and find themselves in an old kitchen, presumably belonging to part of the food-court. Chester immediately strides around the dividing wall and into the serving area.

"Where are you going?" Olga asks. "We're supposed to meet--"

"I'm going to see what's going on, why the other door's locked." He answers.

"But we--" Olga starts to reply, but Mikhail cuts her off.

"What is that?" He asks, pointing across the food-court to the front of a bookshop. Adrian cranes his neck. A submachine gun is lying forlornly a few feet in front of the shop window. "Everybody-- take cover!" Mikhail bellows, flipping a table over and crouching behind it.


	9. Chapter 8 λ

3**/3**** λ**

"Where's the bathroom in this place?" Mutters Penelope Read. "I can't hold it any longer."

Her friend of two days, Elizabeth Lowell, laughs and points towards the food-court on the other side of the open-plan building. "I know there's some over there, but you better ask the leader first." They were camping in a mall, long abandoned since malls had become unnecessary, waiting for some other rebels to join them, before making their way to the coast. Penelope and Elizabeth had both been drafted into the resistance a few days before, and are to be escorted to Lighthouse Point for proper training.

Penelope stands up, dusts herself down and makes her way to where the leader and two medics are sitting. Elizabeth hears her friend ask for permission, and the leader murmur something in return. As the leader ordered, Penelope picks up a gun for protection, although she barely knows how to hold it, let alone use it, and makes her way across the food-court. Elizabeth sees her friend pause outside the bookshop, looking through the window to see if anything of interest is left, then turns her gaze back down to the grimy tiles, to figure out her next tactical move. They were playing a noughts-and-crosses tournament in the dust.

**Chapter ****8 ****λ**

"Everybody-- take cover!" Mikhail bellows, flipping a table over and crouching behind it. Adrian, crouching behind the counter of a Chinese fast-food buffet, hears the sound of guns being prepped, reminding him to unstrap his own SMG from his bag. Beside him, Olivia's ready and peeking over the countertop. A hum fills the air.

"Man hacks!" Yells Blair, whom Adrian notices is crouching behind a similar counter a few feet away. The rebels open fire. Adrian watches the younger soldier in amazement; Blair sits with his back to the counter, cradling the gun in his arms, eyes closed as if he's praying, then he rolls onto his knees, and without pausing fires one shot and rolls back, all the while whimpering like a smacked puppy. His aim is incredible; he's already destroyed seven man-hacks.

Olivia glances over her shoulder and notices Adrian's delaying. "Adrian, _help_!" She barks above the racket. He shifts onto his knees and peers over the counter. The last man-hack smashes on the ground, but Civil Protection soldiers appear in the bookshop doorway and that of a next door music shop. There are maybe six CPs, but without adequate cover they fall quickly, although Adrian does manage to hit one in the leg whilst it's distracted with Mikhail.

"Is it safe?" Adrian asks, as the CPs' suits beep and murmur.

"Yes, I think so…" Olivia mumbles standing up.

Mikhail sneaks to the bookshop and scans around the shelves. "It seems they are all dead. But more might be on their way. I suggest we leave now."

Chester strides towards the shop, Olga at his heels. "And what about the team? Are they all--?"

"They are in here." Mikhail interrupts. "We can do nothing for them now."

Chester sighs. "Is everyone else ok? Anyone hurt?" He asks, he himself rubbing the contents of a medflask onto a shallow gash across his upper arm. Olga tries to tend to grazes on Mikhail's back, neck and arms, but he brushes her away. The rebels reload their guns with ammunition from the dead CPs, and take whatever medkits they find. Then they travel through the mall and out into a large quadrangle with a dry fountain.

Mikhail leads the team into an old bowling alley on the side of the courtyard, and through a tiny half-door disguised in the shadows of the fourth lane. They trudge through an endless maze of claustrophobic tunnels and junction rooms. The passages begin to slope downwards very slightly, making it awkward to walk. Even more uncomfortably, they reach tunnels which are flooded till the ankle, and later, mid way to the knee, with freezing stinking still water. Eventually he stops, and turns around clumsily.

"On the other side of this door is the river." He announces, mostly for Adrian's benefit. "The river almost dry, so this is not a problem. The problem is that when we are walking, we will be visible. We must be silent, and try not to catch the attention of any scanners. As you know, the Combine followed Gordon Freeman into the canals a few days ago, so when we cross the river, we have to maintain silence, because there might still be soldiers." He nods, turns and opens the hatch slowly. It opens into a wide tunnel leading back inland, branching off into smaller tunnels and canals around the river. Once the door is closed and indistinguishable, they go in the opposite direction, to a small concrete step overlooking the waterway.

Only a metre of the fetid water lingers about the riverbed, overlapping the step and soaking into their shoes. Car tyres, street trash and little frozen patches float lazily across the surface, or collect in mounds. Vermin add tiny flickers of movement here and there. As quietly as they can, the team slosh along the step, until they reach a service ladder, leading to a concrete balcony overlooking the river.

They creep along the balcony. A few metres away from the ladder is a huge stone bridge at road level. Hidden between its supporting columns is a smaller bridge, linking the lower balconies for easier access to the canal tunnels for the maintenance crew. They dash across, and hurry into the service tunnel.

Chester immediately starts running his hands along the wall, searching for a hidden door, but Mikhail shakes his head. The hatch, still locked from the Combine raids, is not an option. Instead, they travel deeper into the tunnel. He leads them through passages and up and down ladders; killing any CPs they come across. Along the way, they stop short at a tunnel that has caved in, so they change their route. Instead, they climb out through a manhole and sprint in through the smashed full-length windows of the nearest building, which looks like it used to be a pricey boutique.

Now they've almost reached the outskirts of the city; the buildings are smaller and further apart, and the church is visible. So is the city wall, built by the Combine to prevent escape. Adrian trusts that Mikhail and Chester have a plan to get past it.

They climb to the top floor of the shop. Half the wall and the nearest corner had caved. Chester climbs the crumbled wall and looks over. He tells them that the next-door building has no roof, so they carefully scramble over and make their way across the rubble. They climb back down to street level, cross the road, and enter a hotel with no name sign.

The hotel is three floors, and spans an entire block, and is the last building between them and the church wall. The suites have been converted to serve as housing for civilians, who cheer the rebels along as quietly as they can. A nervous man with a habit of wringing his hands introduces himself as Iosif, and offers to take them to a fire to dry their feet and shoes. Mikhail agrees, although Chester adds that they don't have much time.

Iosif takes them to one of the luxury suites. It has a little kitchen, where he instructs a woman to put some water on the fire. The team flop onto the ragged sofa, suddenly exhausted, and start pulling off their shoes and socks.

"These'll take ages to dry off." Olivia says, holding her sodden shoes at arm's length.

"We don't have ages." Chester reminds her. "Do the best you can."

Iosif shows them to the en-suite bathroom, so they can wash the dirty water off their feet. He stands by the sofa, twirling his hands, as they fumble in their packs for extra socks. The water boils. Olga digs out a stack of powdered soup packets and hands them to the woman. She's overjoyed when Olga tells her to keep the extra packets for themselves.

The rebels drink their soup from mismatched mugs, and ask Iosif to show them the way out. They're just gathering their belongings when they hear it. An APC siren. Nobody moves, nobody breathes. But it zooms past, the building sighs with relief.

Iosif leads them to the end of the hall, and into a suite facing the church, when another APC siren blares, and is joined by a few more. This time they stop outside the front steps. The APC hatches are flung open, and Combine soldiers flood out. They break into the foyer.

_Combine!_Someone yells. Rapid-fire gunshots and screaming from downstairs. _Hurry! _Iosif shouts, throwing the double-windows open. They look onto a flimsy metal fire-escape, tacked to the side of the inn. The rebels leap through the window; Sylvia, Walt, Blair, Olga, Olivia, Adrian, Mikhail and finally Chester. He pauses, turning to face Iosif.

"Thank you for everything." Chester says, shaking the man's wretched hands.

"Just one thing!" Iosif cries. "Is it true? _Is it true that the Free Man's returned?_"

Chester nods. "It's true." He nods again in thanks, turns, and clambers down the ladder. They sprint across the road and scramble over the crumbling church-wall while the Combine soldiers are distracted, disappearing in the overgrown greenery. Chester watches through spaces in the vegetation; Iosif is still standing in the same place, vaguely gazing outwards, although he's thought to close the window. Chester sees that the man has a wide, far-off smile on his face. Overwatch soldiers burst into the room. Iosif barely flinches. Chester wants to warn him somehow as a soldier raises his gun. Iosif is still beaming serenely as he falls to the ground.


	10. Chapter 9 λ

3**/3 ****λ**

**Chapter ****9 ****λ**

The sky glows orange as the sun sinks towards the horizon, disappearing behind the tall buildings and city wall. The church seems much smaller up close. The only remaining obstacle is getting through the wild trees, made harder with the haphazard placement of tombstones and overgrown roots. Adrian almost trips over an upturned flagstone, and ends up breaking the head off a kneeling angel. He quickly replaces it and moves on.

"Shit-- Ow-- Oh _crap_." He hears Steven Blair mutter, a few steps behind. "Hey, uh guys, what d'you say would be the penalty for defacing holy stuff? Hypothetically, of course. Like, er, hypothetically breaking the head off a statue? Hypothetically?" He asks, glancing up nervously at the sky.

"Expecting a bolt of lightning to strike you down?" Walt sneers, giving Blair a little shove out of the way. He and Sylvia snicker as they pass by.

Olivia glares at the strangers. She never liked Blair very much, but she likes the new people a whole lot less. "I didn't know you believed in God, Blair." She says in a forcedly friendly voice.

"I don't." He answers. "Well, not really. But you never know, right?"

"Er-- right…" She says, giving up on trying to be friendly.

They reach a clear spot in the tiny forest, about three quarters of the way to the church. Although the clearing is natural, the long grass is smoothed down and crushed in places, as if someone has passed through recently. They all hope that the other team had left the trail.

"What's _that_?" Says Blair, who can always be trusted to be the one to spot potential danger. He points towards the edge of the trees, where a large black object is sticking out of the tangle of leaves, high above their heads. They hesitantly move closer. It's made of dull black metal, and has a tiny propeller on the back. A little orange LED flashes slowly on the side.

"It is a scanner!" Mikhail says.

"What's it doing there?" Olga asks.

"I think it's _stuck_." Says Chester. "See how it's facing into the trees? It must have been following the others and got tangled there."

"Blair, you still got that slingshot you KO'd Adrian with?" Asks Olivia, passing him a fist-sized rock. He rummages in his bag for the catapult, takes aim and launches the stone. Pieces of hardware rain down. The team check for any more scanners, and when Chester's satisfied that it was the only one, they continue their trek to the church.

"What's this?" Adrian wonders aloud, picking something out of the scanner debris as he walks past. It looks slightly like a medflask, but the contents are blue, and it has a nozzle which looks like it fits into a socket.

Olivia glances over her shoulder. "Battery pack." She says, turning back to look at the path ahead of her. "Chuck it, it's not important."

Adrian turns the vial over in his hands. He slips it into his backpack, then hurries to catch up with the group.

The chapel's wide marble steps slide into view, uneven from the growth of roots underneath them. The team work their way around the areas where the marble is too loose. At the top of the stairs is a flat area, going all the way around the church, which is round, and supported by flying buttresses. Ivy creeps along the patio and over the walls, which stretch up high and taper into little spires and one small tower, obscuring much of the stained-glass windows.

Directly in front of them is a huge wooden door, with decorative iron mesh and studs. It's so large that it has a smaller door built into it for everyday use. Both doors seem to be rusted shut and pasted over with ivy.

"It doesn't look like anybody's passed through here recently." Chester says doubtfully.

"We could try the side doors." Says Mikhail, leading them around the side of the church. They come to another door, smaller than the main door but just as elaborate, also rusted shut. They keep moving till they reach the vestry, a little square room standing against the circular building. It has a small plain back door, and the plants binding it to the doorframe have been sliced through, although the slashes are barely visible in the growing darkness. Mikhail manages to get the door open, and the other follow him inside.

Two large wooden closets entirely cover one wall. A cupboard with a sink, a clothes-frame and a desk take up much of the remaining space. They stand in an uncomfortably close group in the centre of the cramped room.

"Where are they?" Olga whispers.

"We should split into two groups," Says Mikhail, in an equally low voice. Something about the building makes it seem improper to do otherwise. "One to check the main hall and the other to look up there." He indicates towards a niche where a narrow wooden staircase spirals upwards.

"I'll check upstairs." Chester says, taking the safety off his SMG. "Be careful, we don't want a repeat of the mall in here." Olga volunteers to go with him, as does Olivia, and by extension, Adrian. The rest, --Blair, Walt and Sylvia-- follow Mikhail into the church proper.

The stairs are tightly-wound and difficult to climb. By the time he reaches the arch that leads off from a little wooden landing, Adrian's already feeling dizzy. The stairs continue upwards, towards the bell and clock, but he follows the others through the arch. Beyond is a room the size of the vestry, being directly on top of it, which evidently once served as the living quarters for the resident pastor or minister or reverend, Adrian isn't exactly sure what the difference is. In the corner is a small dresser, opposite that a little stove, sink and a table with one chair. On the other side is a thin division with a toilet and shower which had been added later to replace the ole' chamber-pot and wash-basin deal. In the only space left, beneath the shuttered window, is a plain wooden bed on top of which two people are sitting cross legged with a set of cards spread between them. One is wearing the resistance uniform; the other has the blue overalls.

The one in proper uniform is the first to recover. "Took you long enough." He says with a sniff, turning back to his friend. "Check-mate."

"Yeah, we arrived here two days ago." Says the other, briefly glancing up. "And no, I already told you, there's no check-mate in poker."

"Well that thing when you have a king, queen, ace, ten, and that weird smiling guy. I got it." Says the first one.

"That 'weird smiling guy' is called a Jack, and you just gave away your hand--"

Chester loudly clears his throat. "I'm Chester Cubbage, this is Olga Bakst--"

"Hold up there cabbage, can't ya' see we're busy?" Says the second one irritably. Chester, not used to being snapped at, glowers.

Mikhail comes floating up the stairs with surprising stealth. "There was no one in the-- ah, I see you have found our comrades." He says. Chester steps to the side to let him through. "My name is Mikhail P—"

"Pasternak!" Yells the uniformed one, scrambling to turn around and stand up. He shakes Mikhail's hand eagerly, balancing a pair of spectacles on his nose. "I'm Leo Whistler, sir. I've heard so many stories about you, sir!"

"Is this guy for real?" Olivia mutters to Adrian, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. Adrian looks round to see the other 'comrade', looking all comfortable in his blue overalls, and unconsciously tugs at his own sleeve. Comfortable-guy introduces himself as Basil Clampitt, shaking hands with Mikhail more casually.

Chester pulls the window shutter open ajar. "We'll have to stop for the night; it's already way too dark."

"I agree. And also the team is tired. We shall rest here." Says Mikhail, making his way to the stairs. "I will go tell the others."

Because of the raid on the hotel, Chester sets up a rota for lookout-duty. He takes the first shift, and Olga offers to join him. The rest stretch out on the hard wooden pews to sleep. Adrian, being a rookie and not expected to do look-out, falls asleep almost instantly. It feels like just a few moments till Olivia's shaking his shoulder to wake him up.

Watery morning sunlight pokes through the windows not covered by ivy, illuminating the church a little. For breakfast, they share packs of vacuum-packed bread and cups of sugarless milkless coffee, both stolen from Combine supplies. While they're eating, Chester stands up and clears his throat.

"Last night we received a message." He says gravely, showing them a handheld radio which Leo and Basil had brought. "It was from the coast. They had a message from Black Mesa East." He pauses again, thinking how to go on. "The Combine did a sweep, and the hydro-plant's been destroyed." He waits for a break-out of nervous chatter to subside before continuing. "Eli Vance has been captured. Judith Mossman has been captured."

"What about Freeman?" Sylvia shouts. "Where's Freeman?"

"As of yesterday, Ravenholm."

"What? That's _suicide!_" Blair informs them.

"Now, now!" Mikhail says, also standing up. "I think we need to have more faith in Gordon Freeman's abilities. And of course, I am sure that Father Grigori will assist him."

"What, that _maniac_--?"

"Steven, no more!" Mikhail interrupts angrily. "It is even likely that Gordon Freeman has already departed from Ravenholm, and is making his way to Shorepoint Base. We will not lose heart. Now, if everyone is ready, we must leave at once."

They pack up and leave, ploughing through the vegetation at the back of the chapel, which is the closest to the city's outer wall.

"What's Ravenholm? And why's it suicide--? And who's Father Grigori? Why's he a maniac?" Adrian asks Olivia, dodging roots and tombstones.

He expects her to laugh like she usually does when he displays his ignorance, but she looks sombre. "It was an old mining town, but then the Combine shelled it with head-crab rockets." She shivers, partly from the rapidly declining temperature, but mostly at the thought of Freeman having to pass through Ravenholm.

"So everyone's dead? What about this Grigori fella'?"

"Uh… not quite. Father Grigori is the only guy who survived the attacks, but he refused to leave, and now he's… not all there." She adds finally, jabbing a finger at her temple. "If you get me." Adrian nods. They reach the churchyard's boundary wall, and scramble over one by one.

In front of them is wreckage; a few blocks of houses so decrepit that not even the Combine expect people to live there. They skirt around the first block, and climb the rubble like steps onto the first floor of the next. They cross the block cautiously, especially Blair, who is convinced that the building is about to collapse. The other end of the building also ends in a slope of debris. The group hangs back as Chester slides down, landing in a familiar-looking alley, and dives behind a dumpster as an APC rolls by.

When the sound of its giant wheels rolling over the rock-strewn tarmac fades away, he emerges from behind the skip and pulls up a manhole cover. Adrian suddenly remembers the alley from his first day as a free citizen. Chester lowers himself into the manhole, disappearing for a few minutes, before resurfacing, lighting a flare and beckoning them to come. One by one, rebels dash across the alley and down the tunnel. Mikhail is last, pulling the manhole closed behind himself.

They group at the bottom of the ladder. Chester tells them to be on their guard, since CPs could have swept the tunnels. Then he leads them through the underground system, but the route is different from the other time. Instead of leading them to the right, which is how they arrived at the ladder before, he leads them left, through a door Adrian hadn't even noticed the first time.

**Comments ****λ**

**Isn't Basil the weirdest yet awesomenest name ever? P****lus it's a sort of a running joke me and my best friend have 3**


	11. Chapter 10 λ

**We've hit the big ****1-0 people! Thanks for your continued views and support! **

**Chapter ****10 ****λ**

"_That's_ our ride out of City 17?" Adrian whispers doubtfully. Olivia merely glances over her shoulder at him, and nods but doesn't answer. They (and the rest of the team) are crouching in an unused customs office at the train station, watching through a large mesh window. What they are watching is a train platform, or more accurately, a supply train being loaded, a step beyond the platform.

"That is, unless you have a ten-seater plane hidden about your person." Walt says, and is shushed by Chester, to Adrian's satisfaction.

"Alright team," Chester begins. "The train is set to leave in about ten minutes. While the metrocops are busy loading it, we'll move to a blind-spot. We'll wait there till the train is loaded, and when the platform is empty, we'll have approximately three to four minutes to sneak on. If we muck that up, we're all dead. Clear?" The rest murmur variations of "yes", so Chester nods, and says "Let's go."

Still crouching, Chester crawls to the office door, and opens it so slowly that it makes no sound at all. He pokes his head out and makes sure that the CPs are distracted. They're still working on loading the first few carriages, so they're all on the far side of the train. He reaches around for the handle of the next office's door, opens it, and dashes in. They follow one by one, until they're all in the next room.

"Wouldn't life be so much simpler if they built interconnecting offices?" Basil muses aloud, as Chester leads them to the back of the empty office. He slides a filing cabinet to one side, revealing a large air grate, which he pulls out of the wall. He steps aside, and the others crawl through, emerging behind a low wall built out of innocently-placed skips. Beyond the dumpsters is the platform and train, where the metrocops have moved on to the central compartments. Chester joins them, and replaces the grate.

The resistance team watches the CP team wheel trolleys in, empty them into the train compartments and wheel them back out again. Eventually the train is fully packed and ready to leave. The last metrocop slides the compartment door closed and pats the side of the train, then turns and pushes a cart back into the storage facility. As soon as the storage-bay doors close, Chester leaps out from behind the dumpsters and sprints towards the train.

The Combine use Razor Trains for transporting their soldiers, or prisoners soon to be soldiers. For citizen relocation and cargo, they use the old Earthly trains. These are now ancient and unlooked after, covered in rust and dirt.

Chester runs to the train, and leaps off the platform without stopping. The rest catch up with him, and scramble over the platform's edge more carefully. They follow him, crawling under the belly of the train, where he opens up a trapdoor. He climbs through, and turns to help the others up one by one.

When it's Adrian's turn, a loud hum starts up from around the front of the train, echoing through the cavernous depot. He looks around nervously, but Chester shouts at him to hurry up. He gets on the train easily; all he has to do is stand up through the trapdoor, and the compartment floor is waist high. From then on it's sort of like climbing out of a shallow pool without a ladder.

Next, Basil climbs up easily, and then it's Leo. By now, the hum is almost deafening as the train begins crawling forward. Adrian relaxes; maybe he overreacted before, maybe everything is going to be alright. A scream proves him wrong. He turns to see Chester and Mikhail, leaning over the opening. Then he sees that they've each got hold of Leo's arms, and are attempting to pull him through, as the train picks up speed. When they manage to get him up, Adrian looks away.

"I've never seen knees bend that way." Basil says, sitting next to Adrian. On the other side of the carriage, Olga tries to get Leo to be quiet as they stretch out his legs to realign them. Adrian doesn't answer. Olga pulls the cap off a medflask and tries to make Leo drink from it.

The rest settle around the boxes. Olivia looks at the label on the crate next to her. "There's food in here!" She exclaims, rolling onto her knees and trying to get the crate open. Some of the others try to do the same, but Chester stamps his foot to get their attention.

"_STOP_!" He bellows. They look up, hurt. "What d'you think they'll do if they get to the station and the crates are all smashed open? They'll know we were here, and _then_ they'll tighten the security around the platform. Then anyone to come after us won't have any way out of the city, with the canals shut down!"

"But… it's chicken!" Olivia answers pathetically.

"What she's trying to say, Chester, is that the team can't waste this opportunity to get the nutrients that are inaccessible in everyday circumstances." Olga interrupts.

Chester looks at each of the fighters' faces in turn, then turns to Mikhail for support. Instead of backing him up, he says "This is true. For health and morale. Maybe we should--"

Chester exhales angrily. "Okay, listen here you. _One_ crate, okay? I _suppose_ that wouldn't be too suspicious, stuff gets lost in transit everyday…" His voice fades out as the others begin to argue which crate to open. Walt and Sylvia want beef, and Olivia argues for chicken, until Chester threatens to shut the whole thing down. Olga suggests pork, so Chester goes with that.

After they get the crate open. Stacked neatly inside are two columns of plastic lunchboxes. Olga passes them out, and Adrian pulls the top off his. It's sort of like an aeroplane meal; the bottom half of the box is a compartment plate, with two little pork-chops in the biggest section, and a few roasted potatoes and boiled broccoli on the side.

Adrian digs in. Everything's stone cold, but the undeniable taste of actual non-powdered meat puts everyone in a good mood. Even Chester makes some kind of Brit joke about something to do with a Sunday roast.

"I'm thinking of joining the Overwatch if we get to eat like this everyday." Sylvia says jokingly to Walt.

"I'd give them a map of all the hideouts if they gave me a couple of crates of this." He answers. It's another joke, of course, but it's not very funny coming from him. The carriage falls awkwardly silent.

Adrian sits back with his plate on his knees, watching the city dissolve into the forest's outer reaches, as the train lurches away from City 17.

**Comments ****λ**

**And with that recycled line, dear readers, my story draws to a close.**

**That was obviously a joke :I**

**Sorry for the short chapter, I wanted to con****tinue the train-ride in a new chapter. Why? That's for me to know and you to find out ;D Pretty soon actually.**

**A side-note; ****In case you didn't know it already, one of the Combine's tactics for getting people to join the CP or Overwatch is better meals. And Sylvia's line is a variation of what one of the people actually (jokingly) says in the game. **


	12. Chapter 11 λ

**No, you're not crazy, here's a SECOND chapter up for you guys today, my lovely loyal readers. **

**Chapter 11 ****λ**

The forest creeps in on both sides of the tracks. When the plates are picked clean, they're thrown from the windows into the cover of the woods. The crate is disbanded into single boards which follow. The rebels settle back down for the rest of the journey, sleepy with their full bellies and rhythmic sway of the train.

"Someone is trying to open the door." Mikhail says calmly, and suddenly everyone is alert again. They turn their attention to the handle of the door which leads to the next car. Someone is rattling it from the outside.

"_Get back!_" Olivia hisses, pushing Adrian behind a stack of crates. She cocks her gun and trains it on the door, and so do most of the others. Eventually whoever's standing behind the door gives up; an arm smashes through the window and turns the handle from the inside. The door swings open. A CP jumps in, and the shooting starts.

Metrocops keep flooding in, jumping between the cars from a step built above the hook mechanism that keeps the carriages together. Adrian gets his own SMG ready but decides not to waste any ammo with his terrible aim. He looks at the sky through the high windows; the train appears to be slowing down.

The first few CPs have pistols, but the ones who come after are equipped with SMGs. Adrian sees one load a rocket, but doesn't have time to warn the others before it's fired.

The rocket lands around the centre of the car, and the world briefly flashes white, then turns black with smoke and dust. The firing doesn't stop. When the dust clears, the tracks are visible through a large hole in the floor. Most of the crates around the hole have disintegrated, and splinters of wood and plastic lunchbox fly around like snowflakes. The train bounces and shakes as it speeds up again, and anything which falls through the hole is instantly crushed, including CP bodies.

The hole begins to widen with the strain. The CPs stop jumping into the carriage as it almost rips in half. Mikhail wrestles the large sliding doors open. "Everyone must jump!" He shouts above the racket and wind. Blair immediately rushes to the doorway, hastily makes the sign of the cross and jumps through. Then Adrian feels himself behind pushed towards the doorway, and sees Basil's skinny frame approach from the other side. They both pause in front of the door, waiting for the other to jump first. Adrian jumps, and Basil is pushed out at the same time. They collide in mid-air and soar for a couple of seconds, before smashing into the floor and skidding a few metres.

Adrian scrambles against a tree to help himself up, struggling for breath because Basil's knee connected with his stomach. He sees two more figures fly out of the train and towards them, hand in hand. The train is already some distance away. They crash into the floor and he breaks out in a run towards them, and hears Basil follow.

When he reaches them, Sylvia is kneeling next to Walt, who's weakly clawing the ground in a futile attempt to get up. The lower part of his face, his neck and the collar of his uniform are all bloody.

"_What happened to'im?_" Yells Basil.

"_He got hit in the neck!_" She answers, pouring an entire medflask on his throat and wrapping it hurriedly with a bandage. She holds the bandage down and screams at Adrian to get another one from her backpack. He finds a rolled up bandage in her medic bag, but an explosion makes it fly from his hand. Up the road, the train is half hidden around a bend, but he sees the last few cars twist and slam into each other with an almighty crash. The train is wrenched off the tracks as it falls over.

Adrian picks up the rolled bandage and hands it back to Sylvia, who's frantically trying to stop Walt's bleeding. He chokes and gurgles, trying to breathe.

"We shouldn't stay out in the open…" Basil says, and as if to prove his point, a little troop of metrocops come running around the bend of trees in the distance. Sylvia clambers to her feet and tries to get Walt to stand up. "It's no use!" Basil shouts at her, as the CPs load their guns. She says she can't just leave him there, so Basil hoists Walt over his shoulder and prepares to run.

"_No!_" She screams again. "_He'll bleed out!_"

Basil wants to point out that he's going to do so anyway, but he hastily shifts Walt's body, carrying him on his back instead. Sylvia crosses Walt's arms around Basil's neck, as bullets start kicking up little clouds of dust and leaves around their feet. Adrian runs into the forest, trying to find the easiest path for Basil. Sylvia follows last, occasionally letting off a few rounds in the CPs' direction.

Adrian weaves through the forest, eventually coming to a little stream. He sprints across the freezing ankle-high water, and impatiently turns to wait for the others. Basil stomps across the water, staggering across slippery pebbles, and Sylvia follows, turning every few seconds to look back.

They keep moving till Adrian stops short. Directly in front of him is a little ridge, around four metres high. He glances back at Basil, trying to judge whether the jump would be too dangerous for Walt. A voice out of nowhere shouts at him to run left and hide beneath the cliff. He looks around for the voice, which curses and tells him to hurry up. Adrian runs left, arriving at a slope of rocks and soil which leads down beneath the overhang. He runs down, and shelters beneath the ledge. Basil skids to a halt and they sit Walt against the wall.

They hear the pound of the CPs' feet as they stop at the edge of the overhang, directly above them, then the crack of one bullet, and a metrocop suit flat-lines. The other CPs shout and fire their guns in random directions, but they don't know where to aim and eventually only one is left. It tries to sprint away, but falls down dead a moment later.

When everything goes quiet, Adrian tries to climb up to look over the overhang, but his footholds keep crumbling. Basil weaves his hands to make a step, and gives Adrian a boost up. He peers over the ledge, and sees the dead metrocops.

"Is that all of them?" The voice asks, and the leaves in a nearby tree rustle.

"There's, uh --one, two, three, four-- five dead CPs. Is that all?" He asks Sylvia. She looks up from where she's kneeling next to Walt and nods. "Yeah, that's it. Thanks, Blair, you really came through for us."

Blair climbs down the tree branches, and falls the last metre. "Yeah well, it was in my own interest to kill them; I couldn't live up that tree forever." He says, brushing the dirt and leaves off his clothes. Adrian climbs over the ledge, and Sylvia helps Basil lift Walt's body onto his back.

"What happened to him? Is he--" Blair jerked his thumb across his throat.

"No, but he will be if we don't find any help." Basil says.

"What about the others? The train crashed!" Says Adrian.

Blair thinks about this for a while. "We can't go look for them. We need to find help for… uh… _him_, and for ourselves."

"_But what if they need us?_" He turns to Sylvia. "You saw those CPs, they came from near the train, what if--"

"If the CPs got them then there's nothing we can do without the risk of getting ourselves captured. And if they're dead then we'll be killed for nothing!" Blair says.

"If you won't fine, but I'm going back--"

"Adrian! Shut up and listen! We can't do anything now, they just have to help themselves, and believe me, if they can't help themselves then I don't know what _you_ can do for them. Now we need to move because the GPSs in their suits—" Blair kicks the head of one of the dead metrocops "—will lead the Combine right to us. Alright?"

Adrian is about to object again, but Basil says that Walt's heavy and could they please get a move on, so he gives up.

"Now, I think I saw something that way," Blair says, pointing in front of him and to the right. "But I can't be sure till I have a better look. We should go that way anyway, till I find a tall enough tree." The others agree glumly and they start walking. Their feet are numb from their soaked shoes. Sylvia's face is completely white with shock, as is Walt's from blood-loss. Basil is looking extremely uncomfortable as Walt's blood soaks through the collar of his blue shirt, but he says nothing.

Blair finds a suitable tree and climbs it swiftly, and looks through the crosshairs on his SMG with their slight magnification. A few moments later he's back down. "Yep, there's a town thataway." He says, pointing directly in front of them. "Doesn't _seem_ to have any combine presence, but you can't be sure. I wish you still had that sniper rifle with you."

"Mikhail was carrying it." Sylvia says quietly, wrapping her arms around her sides.

They walk in silence for about half an hour.

"_Did anyone hear that?_" Blair hisses.

"No… wait, yes!" Adrian says, listening hard. "What _is_ that--?"

"Its coming this way, get ready--!"

A shape breaks out of the bushes and sprints towards them. It's a large deer. They jump out of the way as it gallops past, bucking in an attempt to dislodge a headcrab from it's back. They stare at the spot where it vanished back into the vegetation for a few seconds, then Blair places a foot on a tree trunk and pulls off a branch about as long as his arm. He holds it in front of him like a baseball bat, in case any other headcrabs appear.

It's around noon when they reach a small dirt track, covered with short grass from disuse. The track is a welcome break from the forest floor, being relatively smooth and even, especially for Basil, who's tired from carrying Walt's dead weight. The track curves around a thick ridge of trees, then opens out into a large clearing surrounding a small town.


	13. Chapter 12 λ

**Chapter 12 ****λ**

Adrian, Blair and Sylvia ready their firearms before stepping out of the cover of trees. They position themselves around Basil, who's still carrying the unconscious Walt piggy-back and therefore can't defend either of them. Walt had coughed and spluttered occasionally during the trek through the forest, but it's become less frequent, and they're all aware of how little time he has left.

The town looms closer with every step, and they approach it half-warily and half-gratefully.

"Wait a second— can anyone see an entrance?" Blair says, stopping short. Wooden barricades had been erected in all the passages between the buildings.

"There's a smashed window in that house there." Adrian suggests.

Blair approaches it cautiously and peers inside. He turns back to them and shrugs, so they climb through. Sylvia goes in first, then Blair and Adrian, and then they carefully pass Walt through. Basil climbs through and crouches next to Sylvia. The room is long and rectangular, and has wooden floors and walls. It appears to be some kind of workshop, with several circular saws and propane gas tanks mounted on the walls, but the tables and shelves are empty.

"How's he doing?" He asks, wiping his cheek and the side of his face from Walt's blood.

"He's alive." Sylvia says shortly.

Basil stares at her for a second while she eases the drenched bandages off and replaces them, before standing up and going near Adrian instead.

"My feet are numb." Adrian says, pulling off his shoes and wringing the water out of his socks. Basil suddenly notices the pain in his own feet and does the same. "I wonder who built those barriers, and why. To keep the headcrabs out, I suppose." He shrugs. Blair hops from one foot to the other impatiently, muttering at them to hurry up. Sylvia says that Walt's ready to move again, Basil picks him up. Blair tries the door handle, which doesn't turn, so he shrugs, and kicks it open.

They file out into a long, empty cobbled road. Broken down cars line the street, and many of the doors and windows are boarded over.

"Where are all the people?" Asks Adrian.

"I hope they have medical supplies, I'm running short." Sylvia says doubtfully.

"I doubt it, this place is a dump!" He says.

Around the corner is a large opening, like the town square. Buildings surround it from all sides; mostly houses and a pub, an inn, and some little shops. None of the buildings offer any sign of life. Most of the alleys are barricaded.

Adrian comes last around the corner. "Hey, I don't think anyone lives here anymore-- _Whoa, wait up!_ What the hell is _that_?" He stops next to the others, who have all gathered to stare at a construction in the centre of the court. A large bonfire smoulders on top of a pile of debris, with charred skeletons impaled on long stakes protruding from the heap.

"I think I know where we are…" Sylvia whispers.

"Ravenholm." Blair answers.

They stare at the display in silence.

Eventually, Basil shifts Walt on his back and says, "Should we be just standing here?" Blair snaps out of his trance and looks around for shelter. Sylvia reminds them about the medical supplies, and he tries to judge which building would be the best place to look.

"Wait, I think someone's coming…" Adrian says, turning around hopefully. A figure shuffles around the corner, dragging it's feet. "Oh, that's _disgusting!_" He shouts, as the zombie staggers towards them. It evidently can't see, because its head is hidden inside a headcrab, but somehow it knows where they are, and claws at the air between them, shrieking. It doesn't really have hands, they're more like deformed claws, and nauseatingly enough, its skin is worn in places so that its diseased innards are displayed for all to see. Blair shoots it down before it's moved metre closer. "So _that's_ what you guys were talking about." Adrian mumbles.

They run into the pub and bar the door with Blair's tree branch as more zombies hobble into the square. Sylvia checks behind the bar, but doesn't find anything useable. The zombies group behind the door and windows, smashing at them half-heartedly with their mangled hands. One of the windows gives in, sending a shower of glass across the room, encouraging the zombies who begin battering with renewed vigour.

"_What're we gonna do?!_" Sylvia screams, shielding her head as another window explodes.

"_There! There's another exit, we'll go through there!_" Blair answers, pointing across the room at a door which is boarded over. They rush to it and begin frantically removing the planks with forks, salt shakers, and anything else they can find. The door finally swings open. Blair stops and glances back at his tree branch, deciding whether to risk going back for it.

Adrian glances from Blair to the branch. He then sprints across the room, grabbing a chair as he goes, which he places under the door handle and slides the branch free. A mutilated arm smashes through a little decorative panel in the door and swipes for his face, but he ducks and returns to the others, offering the stick to Blair. He takes it, looking at Adrian perplexedly as if trying to reason why anyone would take such an unnecessary risk for someone else, something he himself definitely wouldn't do. In the end he just mumbles his thanks turns back to face the street.

This new street resembles the other, in that it is long and cobbled, but lying among the cars are the bodies of numerous zombies. _There must be at least a hundred_, Adrian thinks. Missing arms, legs, heads, some even completely cut in half. Circular saws are at every turn, embedded in the walls or floor, or in other zombies. A headcrab leaps out from behind a car and Blair swats it aside with his bat, and keeps beating it into the ground until it disintegrates.

They start walking wearily up the street, towards a building with its door wide open; the houses on either side are all boarded up. Somewhere behind them, something howls, making their blood run cold. "_RUN!_" Blair shouts, as something jumps off the nearest building. They race forward —apart from Basil, who hobbles— picking their way around the bodies. Blair turns, and sees a creature, like the zombies but stripped down to just muscle and bone, raise its claw to slash at Basil. He raises his SMG, and the creature topples over, dead.

They give Basil a chance to catch up, keeping an eye out for any more of these stronger zombies. Together they move as fast as he can along the street; they're about two thirds of the way to the door.

Further back along the roofs another zombie wails, and this time two or three more answer its call. They try to hurry up, willing Basil to move faster, but they know he can't. A zombie jumps into the road. Then three more. They hopelessly rush towards the door as the zombies charge.

The creatures run faster than any normal human can, and when the leader reaches halfway to the rebels, it bunches up and jumps, leaping through the air. It clears most of the street in that single leap. It prepares to leap again, when a _crack_ echoes off the walls, and it falls dead. Enraged, the others bound towards the rebels, who try to find the source of the gunshot whilst still running. Another echo and another zombie is dead mid-leap. There's a long, nerve-wracking pause until the next shot is fired, and the last zombie is killed by Blair.

"Thank you brother!" A gruff voice with a thick Russian accent calls from somewhere above. They look around, and spot him on a balcony above the open door. "And many apologies for my late arrival. I was tending to my flock elsewhere when I heard the commotion. Please, come inside, I will be with you shortly!" The mysterious gunman seems to find this hilarious, and laughing like a lunatic, turns and leaves the balcony. They quickly cross the last few metres and run into the building.

Adrian shuts the door and places another chair under the handle for good measure. They stand in the room, exhausted and breathing hard. It is small and square, with a table and a few chairs in one corner and a set of stairs leading upwards in the other.

They wait in silence, trying to catch their breath. They help Basil to sit Walt on one of the chairs. A pair of red sneakers appear on the stairs, followed by the lunatic, who trudges down to meet them. "Ravenholm is popular of late!" He says, and laughs maniacally for a full five minutes.

**Comments ****λ**

**I heart Father Grigori! It's a darned shame that Valve said they won't be using him again :/**


	14. Chapter 13 λ

**One more Chapter before I'm off to London for 10 days. I was a little reluctant at first, because I like to have the next chapter done before uploading a new one, and I haven't even started chapter 14 yet. But it doesn't matter, I'll work something out :I**

**Chapter 13 ****λ**

"So Freeman passed through this place? All alone? At night?" Adrian asks, staring through a grimy window at a wide road below, were a zombie or two stagger across every so often. "Man, do I pity him."

Basil, busily scrubbing Walt's blood out of his shirt, doesn't answer.

After introducing himself as Father Grigori, the strange priest led them through Ravenholm, blasting zombies' heads off left and right whilst quoting scripture. And laughing. Eventually they came to large wooden house close to a church.

The ground-floor is protected by all kinds of bizarre traps, and on the first floor the rooms had been converted to workshops where new traps lie about in various stages of construction.

Father Grigori had shown them to the attic, which looks like it had previously been used as some kind of emergency hospital. The loft is long and rectangular, with a few covered-up windows and a couple of little bulbs dangling from the ceiling for light. Several radiators along the walls help to keep the temperature from inching towards zero, like it's doing outside.

A wooden divider sections off a quarter of the space. Adrian and Basil are in the larger space, in which two rows of beds dominate the longest walls, and a few large cupboards are jammed in wherever they fit. On the other side of the divider is a smaller room with only two beds. Sylvia found medical supplies in the closets, and is taking care of Walt in the smaller ward.

"Wonder what happened to the others." He continues. "I hope they're okay."

"'Course they are. You heard Blair, they can handle themselves." Basil replies, hanging his shirt on a radiator to dry.

"Yeah, I guess. Where is Blair anyway?"

Basil shrugs. "Maybe he went to dig himself an underground bunker. Who knows?" He flops down on the closest bed, fingers laced beneath his head. The door swings open and Sylvia enters, striding down the aisle to the supply closet. Wordlessly, she digs through for whatever it is she's looking for.

"So, uh, Walt doin' okay?" Adrian asks to break the silence.

She grabs a stack of medkits and crosses the room again, glancing at Adrian with a look of severe disgust. "He's alive." She says slowly, with a look that seems to add '_no thanks to you'._ She leaves without saying another word.

"What's _her _problem?" Adrian asks when the door is undoubtedly closed.

"Oh, you know." Basil sits up, pulls off his shoes and lies back down.

"What? No, I don't know. But if you do, don't hesitate to share."

"Well, she was just telling me how it was a bad idea for your team to bring you."

"Why?" He splutters stupidly.

"Because the-- and I'm quoting here-- 'newb' is going to 'get us all killed'. Or something. Look, it's dumb, forget about it. You haven't got anybody killed _yet_, have you? No, then you're doing fine."

Adrian crosses his arms and sits on the edge of a bed. "So it was fine when it was her boyfriend who was holding us back."

"Just forget about it."

"Oh no, it didn't matter when it was _Walt_ who almost got _you_ killed. Did you see how close that zombie was to ripping your head off?"

"I was actually trying to not think about that." Basil says, unconsciously scratching the back of his head. "Where're you goin'?"

"To find Father Grigori." Adrian says without elaborating. Basil turns onto his side, closing his eyes to try and get to sleep, despite it only being early-afternoon.

Adrian descends the rickety attic steps, arriving at the end of a long, wide corridor with doors on either side. He stops, realising that he doesn't actually know where the eccentric priest is. A few metres down the hall, one of the doors is open, and he can hear the sound of someone pottering around inside. _Or something,_ Adrian reminds himself. _This place is full of headcrabs._ He arms himself with a chair, which had been standing innocently to one side, and creeps to the open doorway. He peeks inside. The room is for storage, not a workshop, and is full of boxes and crates piled haphazardly with sheets over them.

Blair ducks as a chair flies over his head.

"Sorry, thought you were a headcrab." Adrian says, curiously lifting the edge of a sheet from a box. "What're you doing?"

Adrian expects Blair launch into some longwinded lecture on the dangers of chair-tossing, but instead, the soldier says, "Looking for supplies."

"Ah. Found anything good?"

Blair stares at Adrian, not well skilled in the art of small talk.

"Well, uh, I'll just be, uh, going then." Adrian stalks out of the room. He looks through the mesh fixed over large window at the end of the hall. A little explosion goes off in the graveyard around the church, and Adrian hears the characteristic laugh. He goes down the steps cautiously, taking a submachine-gun from a cupboard crammed with various types of guns.

He goes through the back door, which leads to a tiny alley less likely to be zombie-infested, and is instantly hit by a wall of cold. The alley leads right up to the cemetery wall, with a ladder placed against it. He shivers, holds the weapon under his arm and climbs the ladder, then falls the two metres from the top of the wall on the other side. Gets up, dusting himself off. He picks up the gun and makes his way towards the manic laughter.

He finds Father Grigori at the heart of the cemetery, piling up a horde of dead zombies for a bonfire, explaining why he hadn't run into any on his way over.

"Hello Brother! I see you made it in one piece." Father Grigori cackles.

"Yeah, you're pretty thorough." Adrian answers.

Father Grigori goes back to stacking wood around the corpses. After a while, he looks up to see Adrian still standing there. "You seem troubled, brother."

"Well, I got this problem. Seeing as I can't aim worth a damn--"

"Brother."

"Sorry uh, worth a… uhm… seeing as I can't aim to save my life, I was wondering if you had anything that doesn't need any directing. Because this—" Adrian holds up the SMG. "—is good and all, but if you just pull the trigger and swing it about the ammo tends to run out quick, plus then there's also the possibility of hitting someone on our side, and then there's the--"

"I see your problem brother, but the trouble is that I have already given away my only shotgun." Father Grigori says apologetically. "But wait here, and I will see what the lord will provide." He turns and enters a little stone crypt, returning a while later with a long, complicated-looking gun. He offers the gun to Adrian, who takes it half-heartedly. "It is not exactly what you requested, but short of giving you my own _Annabelle_ there is not much I can do."

Adrian inspects the gun, as not-quite-dead zombie laying in the pile regains consciousness, and swipes its mangled claws at Father Grigori. "_It is not me you want, but the light that shines through me!"_ He yells, blasting its head off with his dear _Annabelle_. It looks complex, with lots of tubes and bits of wood. Adrian glumly thanks the father, who tells him to "_Tread lightly, for this is hallowed ground!_"

He lightly treads back to the wall, climbs over, and sneaks into the wooden house. On the way back to the loft, he peeks in the storage room; Blair isn't there anymore. He shrugs and climbs the wooden stairs.

By the time he gets back, Basil is already snoring softly. Adrian places the guns on the bed where he had dumped his pack, and lies down on next one. He closes his eyes and tries to get some sleep, but can't due to an irritating inability to sleep when the sun's still up. He tosses and turns, and eventually sits up.

Adrian stares around the room, then picks up his new gun, yanks the protective mesh off the window overlooking the busy road, and takes aim at a zombie through the sophisticated scope-thingy. He pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. He tries to figure out what's wrong, then carefully places the gun back on the bed after almost dropping it out of the window. He picks up his old SMG instead, and takes aim through the crosshairs. He squeezes the trigger, looks at the gun stupidly, tugs off the safety catch and squeezes the trigger again.

An inconveniently placed barrel of unspecified explosive material blows up two metres away from the zombie, taking a shop-front and many of the windows from the nearest buildings with it. He hears Basil snort loudly and awaken with a start.

"_Whassgoin'on_?" He yells, glancing around the room with blind eyes.

Adrian, temporarily blind for different reasons, stumbles away from the window. Sylvia comes running in, then stops abruptly in the door way. She glares at him, then stomps back to the smaller ward, slamming the door behind her.

Basil swings his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes, and yawns. "What time is it?" He asks.

"You've been asleep for all of half an hour." Adrian retorts, turning back to the window to aim almost at a zombie.

Basil gets up, stretching, and strolls around the room. "What's _this_?" He asks in an awed voice, picking up the new gun. He turns it over in his hands, looking at it from every angle.

"Meh, Grigori gave it to me, but it doesn't work." Adrian shrugs as yet another zombie hobbles away with its life. He hears little clicks from the gun as his friend does something complicated with the various catches. Basil then stands in front of the window, effectively pushing Adrian out of the way, takes aim, and fires. With an almighty _boom_, a little headcrab hopping across the road falls dead mid-leap.

"It's a little loud…" Basil mutters, scrutinising the weapon.

"I didn't know you could shoot like that." Adrian says coolly, pushing Basil out of the way and aiming at a zombie in the street below. It hobbles out of sight as another, a metre away, falls over instead.

"Yeah, me and m'dad used to go hunting at weekends. Wow, this gun takes me back…" Basil stares at the gun wistfully, lost in his memories. Eventually he snaps back, and says, "I'll trade ya' my SMG for it."

"I already have an SMG." Adrian says. "But then again, it is for a friend. And luckily for you, it's too complicated for me. I don't like these fancy guns that do all the work for you, just give me something nice and simple, that's what I like--"

"Thanks." Basil says quickly, shining the wooden handle with the end of his white t-shirt. "Means a lot."

Adrian twists the mesh back over the window and sits down on the edge of his bed, as Basil gives the hunting rifle a touch of the ole' spit-shine. Blair comes trudging up the stairs, carrying a frayed potato sack over his shoulder.

Blair chooses a bunk at random, and empties the sack over it. Bits of old junk and metal fall out, followed by some hand-tools and a large plastic torch. He picks bits randomly and inspects them, sighing angrily every so often.

"What's up?" Adrian asks.

"I found this torch, but no battery." Blair answers, without looking up.

"So you're trying to make one." Adrian says, not quite convinced. Blair doesn't stop working or look up. Adrian gets up and strolls to his backpack, and digs around for the combine battery-pack he had picked up on the way to the church, back in City 17. "How'bout this? Will this work?" He asks, tossing the canister.

Blair looks up just in time to catch it. He turns it over, looking for some kind of label. "I think it will… yeah." He says suspiciously, glancing at Adrian, and trying to figure out why anyone would want to give away something as valuable as a battery. "Er… thanks." He says finally, turning back to his work.

Adrian sits back down, feeling a like some kind of Santa Claus. He twiddles his thumbs for a while, then asks, to the room in general; "What happens next?"

"Eh?" Basil asks.

"Well, we're not gonna hang around here for the rest of our lives, are we?" He says. " 'Cos Grigori's already asked me if I want to be baptized, and I managed to put it off, but eventually he'll remember and--"

"Where d'you want to go?" Blair asks. "We have food here, and relative safety. Grigori is kind of weird but I can live with that, if it means that--"

"I think Adrian's right." Basil says thoughtfully. "We came here on a mission, and just because some things've changed a little, that doesn't mean we should abandon it."

"By 'some things have changed a little', d'you mean the five people who were either shot or captured, assuming they survived a train crash? Is that what you mean?"

"Well, I _guess,_ but we--"

" 'Cos _somehow_, for_ some _reason, I'm not suddenly tempted to follow in their footsteps!" Blair yells.

"Fine, you _stay_ here!" Basil says. "But I ain't gonna hole up in some dingy town _just_ because some _coward_ decided that he'd rather not risk his own damn _neck_ than fight for the resistance, who _saved his life_ and _took him in_ in the first place."

"_I'm not a coward!_" Blair shouts back. "I'm just thinking practically. What good are you to the resistance _dead_?" The two soldiers continue to argue at each other. Adrian, who can see the pros of both arguments, studies his ragged fingernails, the wall, the floor, and his bootlaces.

**Comments ****λ**

**Whoo, working the Christmas-Spirit right into this chapter :I**

**Merry Christmas [or the equivalent holiday of your choice]!**


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